


Twelve Steps to Atonement

by lyraonyx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Art, Brief M-Preg, Canon Rewrite, Canonical Character Death - Not Harry or Severus, Creature Fic, Epic fic, Especially James, Faithful!Harry, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good!Dumbledore, M/M, Marauders are evil little shits, Mostly Sub Severus, Past Rape/Non-con, Rating May Change, Seer!Luna, Slash, Vulnerable!Severus, Yokai and Fae lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 167,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyraonyx/pseuds/lyraonyx
Summary: Betrayed and abandoned by everyone who should have loved him, half-yokai Severus falls to the dark side of his nature and gets drawn into the Death Eaters. Only when Lily's life is threatened does he realise the cost of what he has become. Love for his former friend and her son, who sees the truth of him despite everything, guides him to let his half-angelic side dominate his choices from then on out. Meanwhile, Harry won't be pushed out of Severus' life, war or no war, and instead, slowly begins to teach his friend, mentor, and someday-mate what it means to be loved.The angst level in this works like the books. It starts off relatively light and gets steadily darker as the years go on. By 7th year, it's rough going.Off hiatus. Updates ~ every week.





	1. The Cost of Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon Rewrite with Severus as Harry's best friend and mate, and both Harry and Severus as creature/being races.
> 
> Everyone is aged up one year to avoid underage issues; therefore, Hogwarts begins at age twelve, not eleven.
> 
> The Marauders are not good people in this. At all. No, not even Remus. And Harry doesn't accept them. At all. Fair warning.
> 
> Yokai and Fae lore is loosely interpreted and not meant to be accurate. I've taken a bit of it and squeezed it into how I think it might fit into the wizarding world.
> 
> Very AU as changes to canon start before Harry is born. That said, I've still attempted to at least loosely follow canon progression and mostly changed the characters' reactions to the plot and how events come about.
> 
> I'm posting this now because I have most of it written. I'm still working on SDS 2 (slow-going because the plot is so complex), and Rescue Me (slow-going because I've hit a massive block on it, but I'm working through it). Those will be next.

#  **Chapter 1**

##  _The Cost of Vengeance_

### October 21, 1979

Severus Tobias Snape had a secret, and if he hadn’t been forced to keep it, he might have taught those bastard Marauders a lesson long ago. But the Ministry had little love lost for his kind, and so, Severus had little choice but to keep his true nature—and his true powers—under wraps. This meant he also had little choice but to endure the Marauders’ torture sessions, though he longed to crush them all under his feet, shred them with his claws, blast them with magic so dark, even the Dark Lord would lose his dinner.

Until now.

No, now Severus was free to torment the bastards if he so chose, and his… _employer_ would only laugh and congratulate him on a job well done.

At least, Severus _should_ have been free, but whenever he begun to fantasise of revenge, the Dark Lord always seemed to have some sort of menial task for him. Brew a potion here, work out an antidote there….

Go down to Hogsmeade late at night and interview for the Defence against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts….

Severus ducked his head against a blast of icy air peppered with stinging ice crystals and made his way to a small, dingy pub on the fringes of Hogsmeade. The Hogshead. He didn’t much like the idea of going so close to Dumbledore, but the Dark Lord had sent him, and had also assured Severus that his _difference_ would be well-hidden by the magical glamours he had cast upon him before the meeting. Severus had his doubts. Dumbledore had always been far too prescient for his own good.

He also doubted Dumbledore would give him the job. No, that man had never cared much for Severus. Else, he might have had done _something_ to protect him from the cruel humans who made his childhood a misery, Muggle and wizard alike. Instead, he had sat back and watched, and to that end, Severus deemed him as guilty as the Muggles who had hurt him. The idea of accepting employment from the man who had so callously watched Severus suffer and done nothing to prevent it left a pit of roiling acid in his stomach.

As did the knowledge that the Dark Lord wanted him to take the post as an excuse to torture Muggleborn children where no one would be the wiser.

Well, Severus had no intention of doing so. Destroying Muggles for their cruelty was one thing, but his bent for revenge had never stretched to children.

Still, he had to at least _appear_ to make an effort during the interview, or the Dark Lord would not be pleased. A human could not kill him, true, but he could make Severus’ life extremely unpleasant. And if the Dark Lord alerted the Ministry to his suspicions about Severus’ state of being… well, it was all over for him either way. He could handle one human, or even several at once, but the Unspeakables knew ways to bring his kind down regardless. Or worse, to keep him imprisoned for the duration of his long, long lifespan.

Severus shuddered and tugged his cloak closer over his shoulders. Best to keep the one human who suspected the truth of him happy. Merlin knew no one would fall on their sword for him if the worst happened. No, Severus had to survive by his wits alone. It was just luck he had plenty of those. Probably wouldn’t have made it out of childhood in one piece otherwise.

Gods, he _really_ didn’t want to do this. Dumbledore would see through his glamours, he was sure of it.

Despite everything he endured to keep his nature hidden, certain people—powerful people—could sense that there was more to him than met the eye. It was why he took such pains to avoid the old man. His aura _reeked_ of magic, and Severus had no doubt he would ferret out his secret if he stayed within his sights too long. The Dark Lord was another of those people who had too much power not to see past the veil of Severus’ apparent humanity, but whereas Dumbledore would most likely side with the Ministry if he ever learned the truth, the Dark Lord found Severus… _intriguing_.

And to someone who had never held much interest for others beyond acting as a favoured punching bag, not even to his own mother, being intriguing was novel. Comforting. Even if the light part of his nature didn’t trust the source.

The Death Eaters had welcomed him like a brother, or at least the Dark Lord had, and Severus thrilled in the rare sensation of being _wanted_. Not reviled or feared or mocked, but desired. He had never felt more powerful than when the Dark Lord had marked him as his own and promoted him straight to the inner circle.

Granted, the discovery of what the Death Eaters _truly_ did to Muggles had disturbed Severus, but he appeased the light half of himself by remembering what his father had done to deserve justice. His neighbours. And Merlin forbid, the _church_. The memory of a small, blonde-haired lad and his cruel fate had spurred even his light side to action, and all his misgivings fell away. Muggles had earned their fate by their cruelty. He was merely a harbinger.

Another blast of snowy wind nearly knocked him off his feet. Severus had to use his wings to keep himself upright. Thank the gods humans couldn’t see them unless Severus allowed them to. Well, his mate would be able to, if such a creature existed, but only if they accepted Severus as good and worthy unconditionally, and fat chance of that. He ignored the twinge of pain the knowledge brought and moved on. He had accepted the fact that he would spend his centuries alone long ago. No use getting worked up about it now.

A turn of the corner revealed the front of the pub, dirty windows glowing orange with candlelight and the warmth of a roaring fire, and Severus shivered and quickened his pace. Merlin, but he didn’t look forward to moving to the Scottish highlands should Dumbledore somehow offer him the job. The south of Britain got its fair share of snow, but nothing like _this_. For Merlin’s sake, it was October, not bleeding January!

At least Aberforth had the good sense not to plaster his pub in the same gaudy décor as his neighbours. Merlin, Severus hated human holidays, and Halloween was the worst. The humans had no idea what the day truly meant, and neither did they care. To them, it was simply a day to dress in foolish costumes, drink pumpkin juice and ale, and gorge themselves on sweets. If they knew they were celebrating the day Hell’s powers peaked and the veil between life and death thinned enough to birth more of his dark-sided kin into the human plane of existence, Severus reckoned they would sooner cower in their homes and drown themselves in holy water than celebrate.

Pity they didn’t know, really. He ignored the small voice in the back of his head— _‘You mightn’t hate the holidays so much if you had someone to share them with’—_ and stepped into the pub.

With a sigh, he kicked the snow from his boots, shook out his cloak, and looked around the room. Dumbledore sat near the fireplace, tucked away in a private booth with an oddly-dressed woman Severus didn’t know. He met the man’s eyes as approached the bar, questioning, and Dumbledore directed him to wait with a wave of his hand. Severus gave a curt nod and settled at a nearby table, refusing Aberforth’s offer of a drink when he came around. Much as he liked the taste of firewhiskey and scotch, Severus would need his wits about him if he planned to come out of this meeting unscathed, and alcohol went through his system much faster than that of a human. His light side simply couldn’t handle it.

No, best to resist temptation for one evening.

“I am simply here to await an interview with the headmaster.”

Aberforth shrugged and headed back behind the bar. Severus chose a seat near enough to the headmaster to hear him call—by human standards at least—and listened with half an ear to the old man’s current interview.

“And you say you are descended from the renowned Seer, Cassandra Trelawney?”

The batty woman nodded and sipped a glass of spirits. By the colour, Severus thought it was probably sherry. Her giant spectacles and myriad rings, bangles, and necklaces glinted in the firelight as she moved. She reminded Severus of nothing so much as a giant dragonfly.

“She was my grandmother, sir. Taught me as much of the mystical arts as she could before she passed to the realm beyond.”

“Indeed. Perhaps you might share some of her knowledge with me?”

The woman nodded to Dumbledore’s teacup. “Might I trouble you to finish that and swirl the dregs clockwise three times?”

“Ah, a tea leaf reading. It has been many years. Of course. One moment.” The old man drained the cup, swirled it a about thrice, and set it on the table before the woman. “What do you see, Madam Trelawney?”

“Ah, just a moment.”

She lifted the cup and peered into its depths. After a moment, a shudder passed over her. Her many bangles, chains, and sequins glinted in the candlelight.

“Danger. A man of dark and light walks close and brings disaster on his heels.”

Severus stiffened and studiously did _not_ look at the old man.

“I see portents of ill-tidings, desperate risk to loved ones, secrets and shadows. And….” She turned the cup at an angle and cocked her head. “Ah! But there is good news too. A ray of light in the darkness, hope and bravery and goodness, comes swiftly.”

Dumbledore gave her a wan smile as he took the cup from her once more. “I see. So you have no _specific_ warnings? Names, places, dates?”

Severus clutched his wand under the table and prayed the woman was as much a fraud as she appeared.

Trelawney blushed. “Er… I… well, it is difficult to read specifics from tea leaves, but perhaps if I focus on your aura—”

“That will not be necessary, thank you. At this time, I think it is best to—”

Dumbledore cut himself off as Trelawney went rigid, eyes wide and staring at something beyond his head. “Sybil? Madam, are you well?”

The woman’s head lolled forwards and her shoulders sagged.

“Oh dear. Perhaps the sherry was off. Aberforth, I believe a bit of firewhiskey is in order.”

“Right away,” the barman grumbled and rummaged among his bottles.

“Just rest there, madam,” said Dumbledore in a soothing voice. “We will have you right as rain in—”

Trelawney’s head shot back up, eyes staring straight at Dumbledore, though Severus felt the aura on her and knew she wasn’t seeing anything so close. A breathy rasp croaked past her lips, far too deep for a woman so slight, and her words froze Severus to his seat.

“The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches….”

Severus couldn’t contain a gasp. He clutched his wand and leaned close, trying to listen to every word without making his attention obvious. Aberforth watched him as he poured a shot of firewhiskey, eyes narrowed and full of a healthy dose of suspicion.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,” Trelawney repeated. “Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will—”

A hand slammed down in front of Severus, splashing him with firewhiskey and jarring him out of his concentration.

“I think you’ve heard enough, lad.” Roughly, Aberforth hoisted Severus up by the collar and dragged him out of the pub.

“Wait! What are you—”

“Don’t try my patience, boy, or it’ll be the worse for you.” Aberforth threw Severus into the snow and tossed his belongings at his head. “And stay out!”

Severus blinked, stunned and unsure of what had just happened. How had Aberforth known? Severus thought he had hidden his interest well. Perhaps the old man had sensed it in his aura somehow.

Icy wind blasted Severus full in the face, and the man shivered from head-to-toe. With a grimace, he tugged on his cloak and gathered it around him. Perhaps the news of a prophecy concerning the Dark Lord would be enough to pacify him when he realised Severus hadn’t had the chance to interview for the Defence position at all.

 

* * *

 

Severus knelt before the Dark Lord and finished his tale. “At that point, Aberforth threw me bodily out of the pub. Unfortunately, I was not able to interview for the position at this time. I apologise for my failures. I will make another attempt as soon as possible, if it pleases my lord.”

Gods, he hated the bowing and scraping—this human should be grateful to him, not the other way around—but Severus hadn’t survived this long by advertising his true nature. He wasn’t foolish enough to start now.

Besides, he sensed the magical strength and dark aura in the Dark Lord. For all Severus knew, this might be the one human who could match his powers. And if Trelawney’s prophecy had any merit, fighting him would be suicide regardless. _‘The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches….’_ If the prophesied warrior would be born at the end of July, Severus certainly didn’t qualify. His kind were only born in midwinter even if he hadn’t come twenty years too early.

As the silence stretched on, Severus dared a peek at the Dark Lord. The man stood before him, eyes narrowed and a fingertip tracing his lower lip.

“The one with the power to vanquish me, hmm?” He gave a dark laugh. “I should like to see the infant who could defeat a god!”

Severus barely contained his snort. God indeed. Merlin, as much as he enjoyed the Dark Lord’s favour, the man was a hopeless megalomaniac.

Around him, the other Death Eaters laughed along with their master.

Lucius called, “What will he do, my lord? Throw his rattle at you? Drown you in milk?”

Bellatrix gave a twisted cackle. “No brat has a hope of defeating you, my lord.”

The Dark Lord nodded abstractedly. “Hmm. No, but perhaps it is better to be cautious. Who among our kind do we know of that is due at the end of July?”

“Alice Longbottom,” said Rosier. “Heard me cousin talking about it the other day, m’lord.”

The dark lord clenched his fist at his side. “I see. Anyone else?”

“I have heard rumours, my lord,” said Rookwood, his expression nervous. “You know Arthur Weasley works at the Ministry? I overheard him in the lift several days ago. It seems the Potters are expecting, and the baby is due at the end of July.”

Severus’ breath caught and his heart lodged in his throat. _‘Lily?’_

Only two humans had ever accepted him as he was: Adam Jamison, who had died long ago, and Lily Evans—he would _never_ call her Potter.

His world collapsed to a single memory. Watching as Lily brought a flower to life and handed it to him, her smile welcoming and warm, her eyes clear of judgment.

He had lost her years before, when his sharp tongue and defiant nature lashed out at the wrong person, when the darkness within him had surged so strongly that even Lily could no longer deny it, when he had turned her away in his moment of need and called her a vicious slur she had never deserved, he had lost her forever.

But he had never stopped loving her.

She had always been the exception to the rule. Muggleborns came from foul, vapid, monsters, but Lily had overcome the shackles of her heritage. She was lovely, kind, and brave, and Severus adored her. She was his sister as much as anyone could be, and the idea of her in danger turned his blood to ice.

“M-my lord,” he breathed, “please,” but the Dark Lord wasn’t listening.

“Potter and Longbottom, hmm?” His eyes flashed red. “Well, then we know who shall be the first to die.”

“My lord, _please_.”

The Dark Lord looked to Severus, a scowl of suspicion evident on his face.

Severus lifted his face, revealing tears on his lashes. “Lily—she was the only one to ever be kind to me from this world. Please… I beg you, spare her life.”

Rage burned in the human’s eyes. “You would choose a mudblood over your lord and master?”

Severus swallowed hard. “Kill her brat if you must, but please, spare her.”

His angelic side let out a silent howl of dismay. Kill her brat? An infant and Lily’s child? No. No, he couldn’t abide by that, but neither was he foolish enough to admit it in the presence of the one her child had possibly been prophesied to defeat.

The Dark Lord’s scowl deepened. “ _Crucio_!”

Pain like Severus had never known flooded him. His bones snapped and healed, only to break again the next moment. His organs turned themselves inside out. His blood burned, his brain melted, and his heart screamed as it desperately fought to keep him alive through the onslaught.

Severus had seen it happen to others, but this was the first time he had felt the cut of the Dark Lord’s disappointment. He had never imagined the pain to be so intense. No wonder so many went mad before it stopped.

As the spell lifted, he became aware of the tears on his cheeks, the blood running warm and wet down his face, the pain still present in the bridge of his nose even while the remnants faded from the rest of his body.

“Let that be a lesson to you, my dear Severus, that you are not the master here.”

Severus could do nothing but struggle to breathe, harsh and broken, sobs escaping every few seconds.

“Dismissed,” the Dark Lord said. “Get out of my sight, and find Potter. Do not kill her.”

Severus’ heart stilled. Oh Merlin, would he truly spare her?

The Dark Lord’s lip curled as he met Severus’ eyes. “That pleasure is mine alone.”

Both sides of Severus’ nature howled in anguish. Betrayed again, and he shouldn’t have even been surprised.

But he was. Merlin forgive him, he was.


	2. The Rewards of Remorse

#  **Chapter 2**

##  _The Rewards of Remorse_

Severus ignored the pain of his broken nose, of his battered form and abused muscles, and staggered up the path to Hogwarts castle. He knew of only one human who could potentially fight the Dark Lord and rescue his friend—his _sister_ —and her son, but _would_ he? The man had never bothered himself with Severus before. Would he listen now, when Severus begged on his knees, risking everything in the thin hope that Lily and her child might be spared.

Perhaps Severus was a fool to hope Dumbledore might listen for his own sake, but the old man had always had a soft spot for his lions. For Lily, for her son, for that foul wretch of a beast she called her husband, he might be moved to act.

If he didn’t, Severus would have no choice but to defend them himself. He would post himself as a sentry over Lily’s home, let his true nature show and challenge anyone who dared come close. The cost of that, however, would be his freedom and his life, so he prayed the old man might be convinced to save her, for the sake of his lions, if not for the half-breed who loved her, whose stupidity and thirst for vengeance had condemned her.

Remorse and horror played havoc with his senses as Severus crawled to the headmaster’s tower and begged entrance at the door.

“Please,” he whispered to the gargoyle. “I haven’t the password, but let him know I am here and desperate for help. Lives depend on it. Please.”

The gargoyle looked him over and gave him a terse nod. A moment later, the beast moved aside, and Severus barely suppressed a sob of relief. At least he would have a chance to voice his plea. It was more than he had dared hope for.

Gods, he prayed it would be enough. Even his dark side prayed, though he knew too well it would do no good. Gods did not listen to the prayers of demons. Still, perhaps his angelic side might have a hope of getting through.

It was his only chance.

Dumbledore stood when Severus came into the room, eyes devoid of twinkles and no trace of a smile on his face. “Ah, Master Snape. To what do I owe the… pleasure of your visit?”

Severus closed the door behind him, took three steps forward, and sank to his knees. “I… I am in need of your help, Headmaster.”

 

* * *

 

At the end of his story, the headmaster watched him from behind a cup of tea. He said nothing for several long moments, and Severus bowed his head, all vestiges of hope fading. He would have to fight for them himself. He would have to sacrifice his life so Lily might live, and in the end, it still might fail. He wasn’t the ‘chosen one,’ after all.

Still, he was the one who had brought about her doom. He would gladly die defending her if that was his fate. He deserved no less for all he had done.

In the wake of his fear, his conscience smote him. Perhaps that foul priest had deserved to die in agony for all he had done to innocent young boys, for leading the humans astray for so long, but could Severus say the same for those his potions had harmed? Riddle did not like to risk him out in the field and preferred to have Severus brew his poisons instead, but that did not absolve him. Whether Severus had killed directly or not, his brews had no doubt tortured and murdered too many to count. Women, children, old men with grandchildren.

The worst of it was that Severus didn’t even know their names. Their faces. He had no idea how many deaths weighed against his soul, nor how many more were to come. He had no way to know if those who had died for his sins had earned their fates or not.

Faced with real consequences for his actions for the first time since taking the mark three months before, Severus could no longer deny he had been a monster. A demon in more ways than one. And now, he might lose everything he had left for his crimes.

He couldn’t even deny that he deserved it.

But Lily didn’t. Her unborn baby didn’t. Potter might deserve death for all he had done to Severus, but he had no confidence in his ability to judge any longer. He didn’t have the right to judge anyway. The past three months had proven he hadn’t the compassion for any sort of fairness.

He was a lost cause, and his failures had brought about his sister’s looming fate. He _was_ a monster.

Tears dripped from under his hair, tinged pink with blood from the broken capillaries in his eyes and his broken nose, but he ignored them. What right did he have to dignity now, when he had brought about the death of everything he loved with his cruelty?

A sigh sounded from the direction of the headmaster’s desk. Footsteps moved around the room, china clinked, and a moment later, something white entered his field of vision. Severus lifted his head to find himself staring at a cup of tea.

“Take that, child. It will help a little, I think.”

Severus took the cup with shaking hands, numb with confusion and fear. “I….” He stared at the cup, unable to comprehend this small act of kindness.

“I did not poison it,” said the headmaster with a wry look.

Severus swallowed hard and performed a surreptitious scan of the tea. Darjeeling, sugar and milk, calming draught, and a healing potion. With a hesitant nod, he sipped the hot brew and let it soothe his pain and distress.

“There you are.” Dumbledore returned to his seat and pressed his spectacles up his nose. “Now, before I trust your word tonight, I would like some answers.”

Severus grimaced. “I… v-very well.”

“I assume you are one of Tom’s followers.”

“Tom?”

“The one you refer to as the Dark Lord. His birth name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Severus nearly dropped his tea. “A _Muggle_ name?”

Dumbledore’s lips quirked. “Yes. Seems rather hypocritical for a man who insists upon the deaths of all with Muggle blood, does it not?”

Severus’ grip tightened on his cup. “Indeed. He is a mud—” He breathed in harshly and dropped his head. No. That damned word had cost him too much. He would never let it pass his lips again. “A M-Muggleborn?” His voice broke and wavered, but he was too distraught to care.

“Half-blood, much as yourself. And I, for that matter. Muggle father, witch mother.” Dumbledore laid his hands upon the desk. “And now that I have answered some of your questions, I would like an answer to mine.”

Severus swallowed hard and let his head drop. “I… I am marked, yes. But I… I….”

“Perhaps you find yourself regretting that decision now that you know the cost?”

Severus’ hands trembled on the cup, calming draught or no. His voice came out in a broken rasp. “Y-yes.”

“Interesting.” Dumbledore rubbed his lip in thought, a frown on his face.

“ _Interesting_?” Severus scowled into his cup. “I realise you have never cared much for me, but is it truly so hard to believe I might have gained a conscience?”

Dumbledore fixed him with a searching look. “Hmm. No, that is not what is confusing me at the moment. What interests me is the fact that an aura of dark magic still surrounds a repentant Death Eater, when his remorse should remove all traces of it but the mark itself.”

Severus’ breath caught. Fuck. He would have no choice but to reveal himself now, or the old man would never believe him. He would think Severus’ pleas a trick, a ploy of the darkness, perhaps to coax Dumbledore out of hiding in preparation for an attack.

His only chance to save Lily, in the end, was to sacrifice himself.

Resolve filled his chest and spread to his limbs, tingling along his spine and fluttering his feathers. The moment he dropped his glamours and let Dumbledore see what he truly was, the old man would call the Ministry. Severus would have little choice but to flee and position himself over Lily and her child. But Dumbledore would no doubt anticipate such a move and would send the Ministry after him.

He would die defending her tonight, and he deserved no less for all he had done.

But perhaps, in the end, his sacrifice might convince the old man that he meant his words. It might convince him to protect her where Severus could not.

He would die, but maybe, just maybe, Lily and her baby would live.

Tears blurred his vision, but he lifted his head and squared his shoulders. Damned if he would shirk his fate now.

“I will show you. All I ask is that you protect her when I am no longer able.”

Severus stood, ignoring the pins and needles in his legs, and laid his tea aside. He held his head high and faced his fate with all the courage he could muster. Death came for him on swift wings, but he refused to meet it on his knees.

With a deep breath, he gathered his strength close and let his glamours drop. The shoulder-length, lank hair he had worn all his life grew and softened into a sheet of shiny raven-black, falling to his waist. Furry, pointed ears poked out of his hair, reminiscent of a Siberian husky’s. His sallow skin shone pearly white, save for the bruising and streaks of blood. His fingernails had grown, gaining sharp points on the ends, and a silvery, furry tail wrapped around his legs. His aquiline nose shifted into a shape like a snout, but flat against his face, and gained a pink, canine nose at its tip. His incisors lengthened and formed short fangs.

But it was the black, feathered wings behind him that truly gave his status away.

Dumbledore’s breath caught. “Oh my. You are a yokai. That would certainly explain your aura.”

Severus nodded, watching the old man carefully. “I am what is known as an angelic Tengu. Of the canine class, though the wings would suggest otherwise. I am half yokai, half angel, after a fashion. Will you swear to me that you will protect her before you report me to the Ministry?”

Dumbledore paused. “Oh. I… Master Snape, you revealed yourself to me believing I would kill you for it?”

Severus clenched his hands into fists, hardly caring that his talons cut his flesh. What did it matter, when in a few moments, he would be fighting for his life?

“I should think that would be obvious.” In his true form, his voice was deeper, darker, more melodic. “Humans do not care for my kind. Particularly those of us who have….” He swallowed against another wave of tears. “Have… let the darkness overtake the light.” He closed his eyes and ignored the sound of his blood splashing the floor where his talons had broken the skin. “Will you protect her or not?”

“Severus. Please, you are hurting yourself.”

Severus looked up, confusion overwhelming his fear. “I… what?”

The headmaster moved to his side and gently opened Severus’ hands, healing his palms without so much as touching his wand. Another sweep of his hands healed Severus’ face, too, and the pain in his nose and eyes vanished.

“Why?” Severus stared, gobsmacked and afraid. “Why bother to heal me?”

“You are a living being too, Severus, and I will not see you harmed.”

Stunned, Severus sank to his knees and stared at the floor, where his blood had turned the headmaster’s parquet crimson and black. Tears dripped down his face hard and fast, and for the first time that night, hope began to overcome the crush of dread. He wrapped his wings and tail around himself and prayed he had made the right decision in coming here tonight.

“You… you truly do not intend to report me?”

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile. “I happen to believe in the power of second chances and that the light within us always has the strength to overcome the darkness, if we will only give it the chance to grow.”

“I… I do not understand.”

“No, Severus. I am not going to report you to the Ministry. In fact, I am going to advise you to restore your glamours now so you are not seen. The portraits here are loyal to me and will not reveal you, but should someone else come while we are speaking, I cannot guarantee that _they_ will keep your secret.”

Severus choked back a sob and covered his mouth, overwhelmed with emotion. He hadn’t expected this. To reveal himself to a human and _not_ die for it? He wept even as he replaced the complex magic that hid his true nature from those with human blood. When he looked up, he was again Severus Snape, lanky form, oily hair, sallow skin and all.

“Very good.” The headmaster guided Severus into the chair before his desk and returned his cup of tea. “Drink that, my boy, and we shall discuss Lily and what can be done to save her and her family.”

Severus reeled, gratitude overpowering him. “Sir… oh gods. I… t-thank you.”

Dumbledore nodded and patted his shoulder. “Not at all. I quite like the Potters and would not wish for evil to befall them. It is only natural to protect them.” He returned to his seat and fixed Severus with a piercing look. “And I find I have a desire to protect you as well. In so much as I am able.”

Severus froze. “I… _protect_ me?”

“I realise I have failed you, Severus,” said Dumbledore with a sigh. “I _did_ attempt to instil some sense of compassion in James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, but I am afraid they are quite blind where you are concerned, James and Sirius in particular. I have never understood why. I hope you will forgive me one day, that I was not able to spare you.”

Severus gripped the edges of his seat. “What did you do? I never saw you intervene at all.”

“Those boys had more detentions apiece than the rest of the houses combined. How they passed their NEWTs at all is beyond me, because they spent nearly every hour after classes in your sixth and seventh years either cleaning for Argus or collecting ingredients for Horace. And I warned them after the episode in fifth year, should they ever assault you in such a manner again, they would be expelled.”

“Why, then, did you not expel Black in seventh year, when he sent me after Lupin?”

Dumbledore winced and leaned back in his chair. “If it would not have condemned an innocent to death, I would have done, but had I expelled Sirius, Remus would have also been discovered and executed. And, however much Sirius might have deserved to be punished, you cannot deny that Remus had no control over the situation. I _did_ suspend Sirius and placed him in therapy with Poppy from then on, but I could do no more without endangering Remus’ life.”

Severus snorted bitterly, but kept his opinions on the werewolf to himself. Whatever he thought of the self-titled Marauders and Dumbledore’s handling of them, at the moment, he owed the old man his life and that of his dearest friend. He would not take such a gift lightly.

“Severus, I am sorry that my handling of the situation gave you the idea that I did not care. It was remiss of me, I think, not to have told you why I was far more lenient than Sirius deserved that day.”

The apology eased something inside him, and Severus gave the old man a troubled smile. “It is in the past. At the moment, we have more pressing concerns. What will you do, sir?”

Dumbledore tugged at his beard, his expression thoughtful. “I do not think I can safely take you from Riddle’s ranks, though I wish I could. Should I attempt to hide you, he will hunt you down wherever you may go. And Tengu or not, I fear Tom has the means to destroy you, if he should desire it.”

Severus gave a hesitant nod. “It would only take one call to the Ministry. Perhaps they would not listen to… Riddle, but Lucius Malfoy is in high standing there, and is inordinately jealous of my standing within the inner circle and the ease with which I acquired it. He would jump at the chance to destroy me.”

“Yes, so you see my dilemma,” said Dumbledore. “I mustn’t try to take you away from the Death Eaters, but neither will I stand by while you continue to serve them unchecked. I think you have seen what allowing your dark side free rein costs. And I do not speak only for the lives lost, but for the damage to your own soul as well.”

Severus lowered his head. “Yes.” He looked up again. “But I do not see how anything is to be done. As you said, I will be killed if I leave his ranks. I will be killed if I resist his orders. And if I fight back and reveal what I truly am, then I am no better off.”

“Yes, but I believe I see a way to spare you.” Dumbledore pressed his hands against his chin. “Tom originally wanted you to seek out the Defence position, did he not?”

Severus nodded. “He thought it would be a good opportunity to torture the Muggleborns in secret.” He scowled. “But even at my worst, I had no intentions of tormenting children.”

“Your angelic side would rebel against it, I believe.”

Severus bowed his head. “As would my personal conscience. Not even my demonic side condones the torture of innocent children. Tengus are not evil, after all—only dark.”

“Yes. And this, I believe, is our answer. I cannot allow you into the Defence position, Severus—even if Tom would not force you to use it for evil, it is cursed, and you will lose your place here after a year. However, as it happens, Professor Tormas recently informed me that he is retiring after the Christmas hols. He would have stayed on until the end of the year, but his health is poor, and he is unable to keep up with the demands of teaching seven years of students at once. Would you consent to taking the position?”

“As the potions professor?” Severus swallowed hard and clenched his fists against his knees, shaking with shock and wonder. “I… you truly wish to offer me a position here?”

Dumbledore nodded. “As an instructor on paper, but in truth, I wish you to be a spy.”

“A spy?”

“A triple agent.” Dumbledore steepled his hands and bumped them against his chin. “Tell Tom that you attempted to secure a place as the defence instructor to regain his favour, but that I had already filled the position—I do have a candidate in mind, so it will not harm you to say as much. However, since I had a potions position open, I hired you for it. Then you will tell him that, while you cannot, regretfully, torture students in potions, whether secretly or otherwise, taking a job here as an instructor places you in a perfect position to spy on me and report on my movements. And as I took a liking to you in our meeting—you might imply my Gryffindor hero complex is to blame, perhaps, since Tom will not believe the simple truth—but whatever you choose to say, this will suggest I am likely to trust you more than what one might suppose based on past events.”

Severus sucked in a sharp breath. “And if I am to maintain my position as a spy, then I cannot be seen torturing Muggles or poisoning them either.”

“Precisely.” Dumbledore sighed and gave Severus a sorrowful smile. “Even with this, I do not think we will be able to prevent him from ordering you to brew the occasional poison or hurting others, but the frequency will drop, and you will know you are doing this for the greater good. A sacrifice of the few to save the many.” The old man shook his head sadly. “It is not an ideal situation, but it is the only one I can see that might possibly save you both—Lily’s child, and yourself.”

“Her child? How will this affect the baby?”

Dumbledore sat tall and called for his phoenix. “Severus, this is Fawkes, my familiar.”

The bird clucked and flew onto Severus’ lap. He nudged his beak into Severus’ clenched fists and eased them open, dropping a few precious tears onto the new cuts along Severus’ palms.

“Oh,” Severus breathed, stunned that such a light creature would wish to heal him. “I… t-thank you, Fawkes.”

The bird trilled and hopped onto Severus’ shoulder, crooning soothing songs into his ear. Severus hesitantly stroked the bird’s chest, wonder flowing warm and soft through his veins.

“It seems Fawkes sees the same potential for good inside you that I do, Severus,” said Dumbledore with a smile. “And so, I will ask you to give me an oath. Not only for my sake, nor only for the Potters’, but for yours as well. So that you will always have a safeguard in place, to keep you from ever letting that darkness within you consume you again. That is what you wish, is it not? To leave the dark behind you?”

Severus swallowed hard and bowed his head, gratitude bringing tears to his eyes. “I… y-yes. I do. I… I will do everything within my power to keep my vows and become a better person. Even when I became a Death Eater and fell into evil, I began with the desire for justice. To avenge those I have loved and lost. I lost sight of that along the way, but I am willing to change. This broken being is not who I wish to be.”

“I believe you, child. And the vow I wish you to hold above all others is the same as your own wish: to protect Lily and her child to the best of your ability. I wish you to swear an oath of loyalty to her child, to help him grow and to teach him what he will need to know to overcome the Dark Lord. Especially since Tom seems determined to attack Lily first, I believe he is most likely the chosen one Sybil prophesied.”

Severus frowned. “You wish me to swear an oath of fealty to the Potter child?”

“Yes, and to aid me as best as you can in helping to defeat the darkness. Those two oaths, I believe, will help you to stay grounded in light and love, and will protect you against the worst of Tom’s evil. They may well help us save the Potters as well.”

“How do you intend to protect them?”

Dumbledore rubbed his chin, a frown creasing his brows. “Perhaps… a _Fidelius_ charm. Are you familiar with it?”

Relief rushed through Severus. “Yes. Please, be sure to choose a faithful secret keeper.”

Dumbledore nodded gravely. “I will do my best. In the meantime, will you swear the vows I have asked of you?”

Severus bowed and whispered, “I will.”

Merlin, he hoped it was enough.


	3. All Sorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***AN: Just a quick note, I haven't gone over every event in canon even though this is a canon rewrite. If I rewrote the events that haven't changed much in this story, it would easily triple Longing of the Soul's word count. So we're sticking to the important events or ones that the story altered significantly. If I didn't mention a thing that happened in canon, assume it went mostly the same way in this story and carry on.***

#  **Chapter 3**

##  _All Sorted_

### 1 September, 1992

Despite Severus’ best efforts, the dark lord attacked the Potter home on Halloween two years after Severus first heard the Prophecy. Or part of the Prophecy, rather. Potter Senior and Lily had died in the attack, and Severus’ heart with her.

At least, until a small tot had escaped his crib and toddled into Severus’ arms.

As he waited for this year’s crop of first years to arrive— _Harry_ —he remembered the moment he had first met the Potter child, the charge he had sworn fealty to long ago.

 

> _Severus rocked Lily back and forth, cradling her dead body in his arms. He had failed them. In the end, Black had turned traitor—and hadn’t Severus warned Dumbledore not to trust him?—and now, the entire Potter family lay dead. The Dark Lord was gone—not dead, but turned to mist of some sort, a spirit, perhaps—but at such a cost!_
> 
> _Gods, he could hardly breathe for grief. Everyone he had ever loved, he had lost. And now, he was alone._
> 
> _“Forgive me,” he choked out, a broken plea with the silence. “Oh gods, forgive me!”_
> 
> _A small sound behind him made Severus’ heart leap into his throat. What in Merlin’s name? He shook it off the next moment. The house had been destroyed by the battle. Most likely, a piece of the ceiling had simply fallen nearby._
> 
> _Severus half-hoped the next piece crushed him._
> 
> _A tiny hand tugged on his sleeve, and Severus whirled around, shock setting every hair on his body on end._
> 
> _Harry looked up at him, big green eyes full of tears and confusion, a streak of red pouring from his little forehead. He was injured and scarred, his little lip wobbling in pain and fear, but he was alive! Severus’ breath rushed out in a great sob, and he gently set Lily down before him._
> 
> _“Oh, Harry. You survived! How did you…?”_
> 
> _Merlin, he didn’t even care. He swept the baby into his arms and held him tight, unconsciously sweeping his wings around the boy. He hardly noticed in his all-encompassing relief. Harry was alive!_
> 
> _“Owie,” Harry whimpered._
> 
> _Severus carefully smoothed the boy’s curls back from his face. A vicious-looking cut with a strange shape crossed the centre of his forehead._
> 
> _“Gods, I imagine that does hurt, little one.” He called upon his light side and healed the boy with a powerful burst of raw magic. A gentle Tergeo removed the blood, and Severus gave the baby a tear-streaked smile. “Ah, there you are. Is that better?”_
> 
> _The baby whimpered and reached for Severus, and he cuddled the child close to his heart. “I am so sorry, little one. I tried so hard to save your mother and even your father, treacherous arse that he is, but I could do nothing in the end.” He buried his face in Harry’s sweet-smelling hair and struggled not to cry, for the baby’s sake. “I hope, one day, I can atone for everything I have cost you.”_
> 
> _“Severus….” Albus’ gentle voice broke through his grief, and Severus looked up to find the old man watching him with tears in his eyes. “I am so sorry. We truly believed he would keep them safe.”_
> 
> _Severus swallowed a surge of anger. It wasn’t Albus’ fault. Severus had reported the prophecy, after all. If anyone carried the blame besides Riddle, it was Severus himself._
> 
> _He held Harry close, petting the baby’s hair, and gave Albus a heartsick look. “What will happen to him?”_
> 
> _Albus sighed and knelt beside them. “I believe, if I am not mistaken, Lily performed an ancient blood ritual before tonight to protect Harry in the event of her death. Due to the nature of its protection, as long as Harry stays with a blood relative, he will be safe.”_
> 
> _“A blood relative? But none remain except….” Severus grimaced and shot Albus a dark look. “Please tell me you do not intend to leave an innocent child with Petunia Evans.”_
> 
> _“She is the only blood relative he has left, barring his cousin, who is also in residence with Petunia and her husband.” Albus rubbed his forehead, a gesture revealing his weariness and sorrow. “I know it is not ideal, Severus, but I know of no other place to keep him that the Death Eaters will not find him. Hogwarts is too open, particularly in the summer. An enemy could walk in at any time without our knowledge and kill him before we notice. He would not be safe in a wizarding home or orphanage either. That leaves only his relatives.” Albus shook his head and rubbed the baby’s head. “I do not much like it myself, but perhaps she will have changed since you knew her. Regardless, I do not know of another way to ensure he survives.”_
> 
> _“I… if I raised him….”_
> 
> _Albus shook his head sadly. “You would both become targets. I am sorry, Severus.”_
> 
> _Severus ducked his head in grief. “So am I.”_
> 
> _A sharp pain shot from the side of his skull and down his face, tearing a yelp from his throat. He tried to look up, wondering what on earth had hit him, but a tugging sensation at the side of his head and accompanying pain held him down and told him what had happened._
> 
> _“Ah… those are not toys, Harry.” He gently pried his ear out of the boy’s fist, then froze. “Merlin. Albus, he can see my ears.”_
> 
> _Albus frowned. “Well, of course he can.”_
> 
> _“No, Albus. My true ears. My Tengu ears.”_
> 
> _Albus gasped. “Sweet Circe.” He laid a hand on Severus’ head, petting the side of his hair, and Severus stilled, unsure of how to react. “I cannot feel them. I know they are there, yet I cannot feel them at all. How strange that Harry should be able to when I cannot.”_
> 
> _Severus swallowed hard and stared at the small child in his arms, now petting Severus’ tail with an expression of pure delight._
> 
> _“Strange indeed,” he whispered, and brought his tail closer, so Harry didn’t need to reach for it._

 

After that night, Harry had gone to the Dursleys’ house at Privet Drive. And Severus sat on the house—literally—watching over him as much as he could do without risking them both. The boy’s relatives would have likely starved him had Severus not compelled them to feed him, and their first attempt to place Harry in the bloody cupboard under the stairs had brought a plague of crows upon them. Vernon still had a scar on one cheek that Severus was especially proud of.

Eventually, the Dursleys tired of Severus’ swift retribution and ceased their abuse, or at least the worst of it. As a result of Severus’ guardianship, Harry grew up in the second bedroom, undoubtedly unloved, but warm, clothed in proper garments, and fed. Sometimes, when Harry went outside to do his chores in the gardens, he would stare at the place where Severus sat and smile, as if he could see the yokai in spite of his glamours and the invisibility cloak he had borrowed from Dumbledore and the boy. In spite of his fears— _all dead, all gone, all betrayed me—_ Severus couldn’t help but smile back.

Quirrell sat beside him and muttered something about _‘not enough garlic by half’_ , and Severus’ thoughts scattered. Thanks to his guard duty over Harry and his obligations to stock the Infirmary before term, he had not, as of yet, met the new Defence teacher. He had heard stories from Minerva and Filius— _Always under a turban, always stuttering, always smells of garlic—_ but until that moment, Severus had never been within earshot of the man.

The second Quirrell sat down, a wave of dark magic rolled over Severus, so thick and putrid, he gagged.

“Oh, s-s-sorry,” Quirrell said with a nervous smile. “A little s-strong on the g-g-garlic today, hmm?” He performed a ventilation charm, but the tinge of evil in his magic only made Severus want to retch.

 _Fuck_! What kind of monster had Albus _hired_? He shot the old man a dark look and received a bemused frown in return. Albus didn’t know then. How in Merlin’s name could he not? He had sensed the aura on Severus right away, and that had only been the dark nature of his demon side, not evil so thick he could cut it with a spoon.

Something strange was going on, and Severus would get to the bottom of it— _before_ that monster could threaten Harry or any of their other students if he had anything to say about it.

The doors opened, distracting Severus from the defence instructor. He would make sure Albus understood the danger later and guard Harry himself, as best as he could do while acting the villain. Merlin, he hated the thought of being cruel to the boy, but he couldn’t risk harm befalling the one being he loved as much as Albus. He had spent nearly thirteen years guarding Harry Potter and damned if he would stop now.

Minerva led a group of tiny, wide-eyed twelve-year-olds into the Great Hall, and Severus couldn’t help searching the lot for a weedy little sprout with a bird’s nest of black hair. He had seen him just that morning, as he made sure Harry arrived onto the platform without trouble—Molly had proved to be an immense help, thank goodness—but watching over Harry had become the habit of a lifetime.

Ah, there. Near the back. Harry hung back near the wall, watching the grandeur with a shocked stare. Severus didn’t need to read him to hear the mantra running through his head, _“Is this real? Is it really for_ me _?”_

As if Harry had sensed his gaze, those vivid green eyes turned to Severus and met him head-on. The beaming smile that spread all over the boy’s features stunned him. Who had ever smiled like that for him before? He couldn’t help but grant him a smile in return, though he fought to keep it a small gesture. Something that would not set the older students running for their lives.

Well, his reputation would precede him soon enough. No doubt the newest Weasley sprog would jump at the chance to tell Harry all about the greasy git of a potions professor. The thought that Harry’s smiles for him would soon disappear turned Severus’ stomach. Well, between Quirrell’s stench and the thought of losing Harry’s regard, this would be a rather pointless meal. He looked away and tried not to notice the concern on the boy’s cherubic little face.

Concern. For _him_. Severus Snape. He had the mad desire to turn and make sure no one was behind him, but his senses confirmed the lack of a looming presence well enough without revealing his insecurity for all to see.

“Welcome, all,” said Albus in his usual genial rumble, “to another year at Hogwarts. First years, please follow Professor McGonagall to the platform just here and we will begin the house sorting. After a round of the school song, of course. Everyone, choose your favourite tune and sing along!”

Severus groaned against the cacophony that was this yearly ritual. Dear gods, they _must_ discuss the establishment of a music club. Or at least set someone who could carry a tune to lead them. Merlin, his ears were too sensitive for this. He flattened them against his skull and covered them with his hands. To the humans, it would appear as though he had a headache. Which wasn’t far from the truth.

And yet, when he looked up to see Harry’s eyes shining with amusement and a bright grin on his face, he couldn’t begrudge the old man this little bit of eccentricity. Odd as it was, much as it pained his sensitive ears, if it made Harry smile like that, he would endure it. The boy had had little enough joy in his stark existence before now.

Minerva called, “First years, first years, come here and be sorted.”

As soon as she set the hat on its stool, it began its own yearly musical ritual. At least this time he need only listen to one tune at a time. Harry grinned throughout this ritual, too, but when the hat mentioned banding together for dark times ahead, his smile slipped into a frown of worry.

Much as Severus hated to see Harry’s joy diminished, in this, he was glad to see the boy had learned some degree of caution over the years. Dark times _were_ ahead as long as that monster masquerading as human remained in the seat next to Severus. Gods, even now, his aura made Severus’ stomach roil. He _had_ to go soon. Not least because Severus would soon starve if he had to sit next to that foul odour all year long.

“Right, let’s begin,” came Minerva’s crisp brogue. “Abbott, Hannah!”

The hat had barely touched her head before it shouted, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

Abbott handed it back to Minerva and took her place among the badgers with a shy smile.

“Bones, Susan.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terrence.”

“RAVENCLAW!”

Severus watched the proceedings with half an eye, keeping watch over the little weedy boy in glasses too big for his face. Harry clambered onto the stool as soon as Minerva called his name and tugged the hat onto his head. It dropped down over half his face.

Severus watched the boy’s mouth work and mutter to the hat—was he arguing with it?—for nearly a minute, the longest hat stall yet.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Severus’ heart sank. Harry would hate him, then, even more than he had feared. Still, it was to the best. Harry would certainly need the bravery associated with the house of lions in the coming years, and Severus could not appear to be friendly to him regardless. At least within Gryffindor, Severus knew the boy would find trustworthy support.

The image of a cocky, blue-eyed, shaggy-haired bastard flickered into his mind, and Severus barely suppressed a snarl. That Gryffindor certainly hadn’t earned his house’s honour.

No. He wouldn’t let anyone so treacherous befriend Harry. Over his dead body.

Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table, where the other first years and Weasleys greeted him like a long-time friend. Yes, the Weasleys, for all their flaws, were loyal. Harry would do well in befriending them. Perhaps Severus could encourage it discreetly.

“Weasley, Ronald!”

‘Ronald’ made a face and whispered something to Minerva before taking the hat.

“Ah, my apologies. _Ron_.”

Severus couldn’t hold back a snort. Quirrell looked as if he might comment on it, but a sharp glare set him in his place quickly enough. How could Filius eat with the aura on that monster? Perhaps, like Albus, he simply hadn’t noticed it.

A feeling of slime crept down Severus’ spine. Something dangerous was afoot here, or he would eat the sorting hat.

Well, whatever it was, he would stop it before it could harm Harry. The other students too, of course, but especially Harry. His eyes again darted to the boy, who grinned when Severus met his eyes. Beside him, Ron whispered in his ear and pointed to Severus, and Harry’s brow furrowed. He turned on the boy and said something fierce, hands on his hips and eyes sharp. Severus watched his lips and was able to make out a few of the words.

“… Don’t care… shouldn’t say… it’s mean. Don’t… about him. Don’t be a bully.”

Weasley stammered out what must have been an apology by his posture and expression. His next words were easier to read. “But he’s… big bully… hates Gryffindors.”

“I’ll judge… for myself, thanks… just don’t… bully him. Mean words hurt.”

_‘More than you know, child.’_

Severus’ gut twisted as he reckoned Harry would know it firsthand soon enough.

The boy turned and gave him a warm smile, something apologetic and accepting in his eyes. Severus’ heart thrummed. Gods. It would rip the soul from him to be cruel to this sweet child who looked at him like he _meant_ something. Like he _mattered_.

And yet, he would do it, no matter how much it hurt. Being cruel to Harry meant the boy would survive another day.

Weasley pointed to the teachers in turn, pausing over Severus and skipping him to point at the next in line, Quirrell. The instant Harry’s eyes landed on the turbaned bastard, Harry clutched at his scar and doubled over in agony. A dark pulse of energy rippled from the monster beside him, and Severus would have cursed him on the spot had Quirrell not been looking away. It wasn’t possible Quirrell had cursed Harry undetected while his head was turned, not in a hall full of students and professors. And yet, Severus knew the darkness had come from him.

Merlin, he had to tell Albus about this. Dinner couldn’t end soon enough.

 

* * *

 

Severus sat in Albus’ personal chambers, lounging on his purple sofa with all his glamours down for once. This was the only place he felt safe enough to be himself. The only place he could let his ears out and his tail down without fear of retribution. Albus had warded his chambers to hell and back for that purpose, and Severus knew they were safe here.

“And then,” Severus continued, “a wave of dark energy rushed out from the man—it smelled of death. I swear if he hadn’t had his head turned….” He sighed and sipped at his tea, needing the calming influence. “Albus, there is something seriously amiss about the man. You’re quite _sure_ you didn’t sense his dark aura?”

Albus shook his head and frowned into his teacup. “Why would I have hired him if I had done?”

“You said it was a Ministry contract. I had assumed they _forced_ you.”

“They only suggested Quirrell because I hadn’t another candidate for the position by last week and Defence is part of the required curriculum. We _do_ seem to go through them rather quickly.”

“I wonder why.”

Albus chuckled. “Yes, Tom did rather inconvenience us with that little curse, I fear. For now, however, there is little I can do about Quirrell besides put safeguards in place for the students and keep an eye on him. He may be a yokai, as you are, child, in which case he cannot help his aura.”

“Albus, this wasn’t darkness alone, not like me. It was sheer, unadulterated evil. If he _is_ a yokai, then he is one of the most dangerous types in existence. We cannot afford to trust such a being near children.”

Albus sighed and set his tea aside. “If that is what you sensed, then you are correct, but again, my hands are tied, Severus. It is a Ministry contract. I cannot terminate it without proof of evildoing. _Action_ , not an aura, Severus. Until he is caught in the act or planning it, we have little recourse.”

Severus growled under his breath. “Then I suppose I shall have to sit on the little bastard all year until the curse does my job for me.”

Albus chuckled wryly. “Indeed. Do that, my friend, and I shall continue to search for a way out of the contract in the meantime and a suitable replacement.”

“I suppose that is the best we can do.” Severus sighed and leaned back in his seat. “I do not like it. I do not trust that beast around Harry.”

“Ah, yes. And how do you think young Mister Potter is fitting in so far?”

Severus shrugged, dismal once again. “Well enough, I suppose. By this time tomorrow, I shall be in no position to judge. He shall hate me.”

“He did not seem to hate you tonight.”

“No. I cannot fathom it.” Severus lowered his head so his thoughts would not be obvious to the old man. _‘No one smiles at me like that. Why?’_

Albus stroked his beard, a pensive expression on his face. “I wonder….”

“Hmm?”

“Well, I suppose it is too soon to say.” Albus squeezed Severus’ shoulder. “Don’t fret, my friend. All hope may not be lost.”

“Albus, I cannot _afford_ to be kind to him. He will perish. And so will I.”

“Well, not in public, of course, but who will say if you are friendly in private?”

“Harry might.”

“Not if he understands, Severus.” Albus moved away, a sad smile on his face. “You must do as you think is best, of course, but know I do not condemn you for wishing to be on friendlier terms than your role would typically allow, and I trust the both of you to understand the need to keep it secret. Harry is a child, yes, but from all you have told me, he has learned the value of trust and faith young. It is not hopeless, Severus.”

“And what will happen after tomorrow’s class, Albus? When I must be cruel to him for no reason at all? What makes you think he will be different than any other Gryffindor?”

Albus rubbed Severus’ ear. “I still cannot see them outside of this office.”

Severus gave him a bemused look and flicked his ear back from Albus’ fingers. “What?”

“We shall see, child. For now, I am in need of rest. Tomorrow is a busy day, after all. And you, I believe, must ensure that our rogue defence instructor is behaving himself.”

Severus growled under his breath. “Indeed. How is he hiding it, Albus? How can you not sense it? It nearly choked me.”

Albus shook his head. “Perhaps he has taken pains to hide his aura from anyone with human blood, as you hide your ears and tail.”

“That is _possible_?”

“Much is possible with magic, Severus, and I am not foolish enough to claim that I am aware of every spell which might exist when new charms are invented every day.” Albus’ eyes took on a faraway look. “I once believed myself invincible and all-knowing, and it cost me far too much. You, I think, know the cut of that pain too. So let us not be foolish and make the same mistake twice.”

Severus took a shaky breath. “Such a spell would be useful for one such as myself.”

“Indeed. Perhaps you might create a version of your own if you are unable to find one already in existence. You always did have a knack for spellcraft.”

Severus nodded abstractedly. “Indeed, but we have gone off the point. Even if we assume the bastard is hiding his aura from humans, we still have a problem, Albus. _Harry_ sensed it. The dark pulse he sent out hurt Harry and made him clutch at his scar. If Quirrell has hidden his aura from humans, how is it possible that Harry can feel it? I do not sense any supernatural aura about him.”

Albus rubbed his chin in thought. “How indeed. Perhaps we shall learn more in time. At the moment, I am quite at a loss.” He patted Severus’ shoulder. “Go sit on the defence instructor and ease your fears. I will take to my library and see what I am able to uncover on both Harry’s unusual sensitivity to auras and Quirinus’ ability to mask his own from the rest of us.”

Severus sighed and stood. “Perhaps you are right. I should make sure he is behaving himself regardless.” He bid Albus goodnight but paused at the door. “Albus, the stone—it is safe?”

“Yes, Severus. I imagine there are few wizards able to navigate the myriad of tests we set to keep it safe. Fluffy, in particular, will pose quite the threat to anyone foolish enough to risk angering him.”

Severus nodded, though the niggle of worry hadn’t left him. He supposed it made sense to place the most daunting task at the front of the challenges and the second most difficult at the end, but those in the middle….

“Albus, I am worried. Devil’s Snare, a chess game, catch-the-key… a studious first year could pass some of those tests. Even mine… one with a logical bent or a knack for potions could work out the answer with some thought.”

“Ah, perhaps, but then they must also pass Fluffy, child.” Albus frowned and stroked his beard. “But perhaps you make a good point. I will research a way to place a test of my own around the stone.”

Severus let a little sigh escape him. If Albus protected it, the stone would be safe.

“Thank Merlin.”

He bid Albus goodnight once more and prowled the castle for the beast. By the location and strength of his aura, Quirrell had gone to bed. Thus, Severus judged it safe enough to follow suit for the time being and headed for the dungeons.

He paused in front of Fluffy’s corridor. Maybe it was safest to learn how to bypass all the tests himself, just in case he needed to run after anyone stupid enough to try their luck. Merlin knew the Weasley twins would at least give it a go once or twice before they decided whatever was in that corridor was best left alone.

With a shake of his head for the headaches those two would undoubtedly cause him that year, Severus returned to his quarters and double-checked his lesson plans for the next day. Despite the fact that his role forced him to be an arsehole to the students, Severus _did_ try to teach his curriculum properly.

Yes, Draught of Peace would be a good potion for his returning fifth years, who would, no doubt, be nervous about their approaching OWLs and the renewed fervour with which their professors would try to cram new knowledge into their heads. And Cure for Boils was always a good starting point for first years—nice and simple, with no corrosive ingredients or otherwise dangerous substances. 

The first years… Harry.

Severus laid his head in his hands and heaved a sigh. After tomorrow, his smiles would disappear. He would never again look upon Severus with something that resembled affection. At best, he could hope for wary, grudging respect, but no. He could not hope for even that.

And Harry… gods. Harry would think the one person who had guarded him his entire life hated him. Perhaps it wouldn’t mean much—after all, the boy wouldn’t have known Severus was there to guard him all those years—but he would lose another support. In a world that was already too cruel to him, Harry would have one more terrible problem to deal with. It hurt, that Severus would have to burden the only person he loved other than Albus so terribly.

But in the end, Harry would live. And even if it hurt to hurt him, by gods, Severus would do it to save him. He would gouge his own eyes out before seeing that child come to harm. Though it destroyed him, Severus would be cruel because Harry needed him to, even if he didn’t know it.

But _fuck_ , he didn’t want to. Merlin help him, he didn’t want to hurt that child.

“Gods, forgive me,” he whispered and wished for any fate but this one.


	4. Guardian Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lots of tooth-rotting fluff incoming in this chapter. Sweet, syrupy, goodness and a bunch of little Harry cuteness. D'aww!_

#  **Chapter 4**

##  _Guardian Demon_

_‘Well, well. If it isn’t Harry Potter, our new… celebrity.’_

Professor Snape’s cruel words rang over and over in Harry’s head. He barely had the focus to concentrate on his other classes. Why would he say such terrible things? Why make a spectacle out of Harry and hurt him? All his classmates left that class feeling scandalised and angry. Though he didn’t know her well, even Hermione had ranted about biased professors and ‘the Headmaster should _really_ do something about this.’ Ron had dismissed it as just another cruelty from the greasy git as if Harry shouldn’t have expected anything else, and his dormmates had taken up in arms against Snape, but Harry knew better.

Why would Professor Snape do this when, for the past eleven years or so, he had sat on Harry’s roof and guarded him fiercely? Why hurt him after protecting him for over a decade? It made no bloody sense.

Ron couldn’t understand. Harry hadn’t told him about Snape’s wings or the fact that his guardian angel acted as though he loved him outside of the classroom. Or at least cared enough about him to keep him from danger. It felt… sacred somehow. And after hearing Ron go on and on about the bat of the dungeons who preyed upon hapless students at night and used their blood to mark his essays, well, Harry doubted he would believe him anyway.

Still, the entire situation confused and hurt him, and so, he decided he would seek answers from the one person in a position to give them.

After dinner, while his friends and dormmates busied themselves with socialising and homework, Harry slipped away. Outside Gryffindor Tower, he asked the Fat Lady for directions to Professor Snape’s office, and though she looked at him as if he had lost the plot, she guided him to the dungeons anyway. So Harry made the lonely trek to the lower floors of the castle and stayed out of sight as much as possible, a skill he had learned at his uncle’s knee—the less often Vernon noticed his existence, the better for everyone involved. Petunia and Dudley, too, for that matter, but especially Vernon.

Harry remembered the times his guardian angel had stopped his uncle from hurting him, once with a giant flock of crows if memory served, and his resolve doubled. Snape cared for him, Harry was certain of it. Why else would he spend so much time and effort to keep him safe?

With that thought in mind, Harry lifted his hand and rapped on the professor’s door.

“Enter,” came the dark, low voice Harry liked so much. With a worried frown, he stepped inside Professor Snape’s office and closed the door behind him.

“Er, h-hello, Professor.”

Snape’s head jerked up and his eyes widened marginally. “Potter? What in Merlin’s name are you doing here? Did I not make it clear enough in class that I will not cater to your whims?”

Harry swallowed hard and gathered his courage. “Sir, I… I don’t understand why you’re being so mean to me.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Oh? And should I bend over backwards to please you, as the rest of the world seems determined to do? Do you not have enough admirers that you must collect me as well?”

Harry flushed and looked to his feet, rubbing a toe against the flagstone. “Sir, you know that not all the world does that. You’re the only one here who knows.”

Snape paused, all colour draining from his face. “What? What are you on about, Potter?”

Harry sighed and gave it up as a bad job. Either Snape really didn’t understand or he was determined to pretend not to.

“I saw you, sir. You’ve been on my roof for the past ten years, protecting me. I know you care about me. So please, tell me why you’re being so mean.”

Snape sank into his chair, face bloodless and eyes wide and staring. “You… saw me.”

“Yes. You flew up to the roof nearly every day and watched over me. You smiled at me too.”

“Flew. _Flew_? I—how? Can you see…?”

The man stretched his beautiful black wings, and Harry’s fingers itched to touch. They were so glossy, like a crow’s wing, but with the span of an angel. If Snape stretched them to their full length, they filled the entire back wall of his office. Harry tracked them with his eyes, and Snape’s throat bobbed.

“Dear gods. You _can_ see them. I had imagined you would grow out of it.”

“What?”

“My….” Snape hesitated. “Potter, tell me, what am I doing now?” The man stayed stock-still except for the tip of his left wing. It waved slowly back and forth, so as not to displace the air, Harry suspected.

“You’re waving at me with your wing?”

“Shite,” Snape breathed. “Oh, oh, this is not good.”

“Sir?”

White as a sheet, Snape beckoned Harry closer and took his shoulders in firm hands. “Who have you told about me? About my wings or ears or anything other than a pure human appearance?”

Harry blinked. “Er… no one. You seemed scared for anyone to see you when you came to the Dursleys’ before, so I reckoned you wouldn’t want me to talk about it. And I thought no one would believe me anyway.”

Snape’s shoulders sagged and a breath rushed from him. “Thank Merlin.” He stepped back, and that veil of coldness fell over his features again. “Mister Potter, I think it is best if you stay away from me as much as possible. And for Merlin’s sake, tell _no one_ of my wings, ears, tail, or anything else that does not look human.”

Harry squinted to hide the tears building behind his eyelids. “Why must I stay away, sir? I don’t understand. Why did you take care of me for so long if you hate me?” His voice wobbled at the end, and he flushed, embarrassed. He couldn’t let himself cry, but gods, it hurt to think that the one person he believed had loved him unconditionally over the years hadn’t truly cared at all.

Despite his resolve, tears dripped down his face. He pressed his palms into his eyes and tried to control it, tried to act mature and grown up, even if he was only a child yet. He should have known. _‘Just a freak, unwanted, unloved, always unloved.’_ He never should have come.

But when he removed his hands and looked up, having every intention of spitting out a rushed goodbye before fleeing to the relative safety of the dorms, Snape’s mask had cracked. Dark eyes tracked Harry’s tears down his face, sorrow and remorse heavy in their depths.

“H-Harry….”

Harry gave a little sniffle and raced to the angel, throwing his arms around Snape’s slim waist and hugging him tight.

“I _knew_ you cared about me.”

Snape tensed and trembled against him, and Harry wondered if anyone had ever hugged him like this. He hadn’t known what it would feel like himself. He’d seen his aunt and uncle hug Dudley or other parents hug their children at primary school, but no one had ever hugged Harry before.

It must have been the first time anyone had hugged Snape. He shook so hard, he vibrated Harry. Gods, it wasn’t supposed to _scare_ him. Well, maybe Harry was just holding him too tightly. He relaxed his grip and eased back, though he left his head against Snape’s stomach and his arms around his waist.

“It’s okay,” Harry murmured, voice muffled against Snape’s robe. “I just wanted to hug you.”

“Merlin, child,” Snape breathed. “Why? I do not understand.”

“I’ve never had one. And I always wanted to thank you. But you would never come down to talk to me, and I was afraid to shout. I thought it would scare you away. But you’re here now and… and thank you. For protecting me so long. For being there. No one else ever has done.”

Snape let his breath out in a rush, and a gentle hand cradled Harry’s head, holding him against his belly. “You were not meant to see me.”

“But I did.”

“Child, I have no idea how. I was under what was _supposed_ to be an infallible invisibility charm and glamours that, in every case but yours, hide my true appearance from anyone with human blood. I do not understand why you saw me, especially the truth of me, when I was hidden under layers of charms to keep everyone out.”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be bad.”

“Oh, little one, no. You cannot help it.” Snape smoothed Harry’s hair once, then sighed and guided him to take a step back. “Harry, look at me, child. Tell me what you see that is different about me.”

“Um… I see your wings. They’re beautiful, by the way.”

Snape’s cheeks went soft pink. “T-thank you. What else? Can you see my ears?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Snape frowned and touched his hair, draped down both sides of his face. “What do they look like then?”

“They’re silver with black tips, and they’re pink on the inside.”

Snape winced. “Yes. Please tell no one of my ears or wings.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“What else can you see that does not look human?”

Harry looked down and smiled. “Your tail. It’s the same colour as your ears and it looks _so_ soft.”

Snape blushed deeper and curled his tail behind him. “O-oh. Yes, do not mention my tail either. Anything else?”

“Your nose is… different. It’s almost… like a wolf’s, but it has the shape of a human’s, except the tip.”

“Yes. If I was a lower class of Tengu, I would have a wolf’s snout or the beak of a crow, but my class’ special ancestry mitigated it. Do recall that to everyone but you, little one, my nose appears hooked and large, but fully human.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “I’ll remember. Ron said you had a big nose, but I like it.”

“My human appearance is not particularly attractive. It is meant to keep people from coming too close.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad I see your real face then.”

Snape’s cheeks burned bright red. “Merlin. I… w-what else do you see that is different? Anything?”

“Loads. Your nails are different too. They look more like a cat’s claws. Or, no, more like a dog’s, since you can’t draw them back. Or can you?”

Snape shook his head. “I cannot, however, my glamours make them feel like fingernails to humans and prevent them from being scratched.” He frowned. “Harry, touch my nails and tell me if you feel fingernails or claws.”

Harry beamed and took Snape’s hand in his own. He squeezed the man’s fingers and, with his other hand, cautiously ran the pad of his index finger across the tip of Snape’s claw.

“Ouch!” He pulled back a bleeding fingertip and winced. “Definitely claws.”

Snape whispered a spell against Harry’s hand, and the small cut healed instantly. “I am sorry, child. I will remember to take great care with my claws for you. Are you well?”

Harry nodded. “Thank you, sir. Will you teach me that spell in case I get cut accidentally again?”

Snape frowned. “Most boys have small injuries from time to time, Harry. It is hardly something you need a spell for.”

“Yes, but I meant on your claws. If you don’t want anyone to know about them, and I’m the only one who can be cut by them, then don’t you think I should know how to heal it fast just in case?”

Snape looked gobsmacked. “You… you would want to touch my hands again?”

Harry responded by tugging the angel’s hand against his chest, taking care to avoid his nails. “Of course I would.”

Snape gave him a wondering look. His hand trembled in Harry’s. “I… this is….” He took a shaky breath in and cautiously rubbed the knuckle of his thumb against Harry’s palm, tucking his claws so as not to hurt him. “T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” Harry frowned at the sheen in Snape’s eyes. He looked as though he might cry. “Sir, are you okay?”

Snape nodded and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the sheen had gone. With a small smile, he squeezed Harry’s hand and then tucked both of his behind his back. “I am well, child. We are off topic, however. I must ask you to take care around my claws and never mention them to anyone but the headmaster or his portraits, who already know the truth of me.”

Harry frowned. “Yes, sir, but… will you teach me that spell?”

Snape sighed. “I will do, little one, but it will take time to learn to cast it quickly and without your wand or an obvious incantation. I will attempt to find a spell to keep my claws from harming you, but as of yet, I know of nothing beyond the glamour to protect humans, and to research magic for my kind is… dangerous. It will take time to find something, I fear. So until you learn to cast the spell well enough or I find a protective charm, you must take care to avoid my claws for both of our sakes.”

“Yes, sir. I promise.”

“Good. Now, are you able to see any other differences in my appearance?”

“Um, yes. Your teeth are sharp.”

“Do not mention those either.”

“Okay.” Harry looked him over, frowning. “I guess that’s all I see, only your eyes change colour sometimes. I’ve seen them go red when Vernon was about to hurt me outside before.”

Snape growled softly. “Yes. My eyes change when I am angry sometimes—and that _monstrosity_ of a man infuriates me. How long is my hair, Harry?”

“It’s so gorgeous. All down your back, and silky and soft.”

Snape groaned. “You are able to see my entire form. My glamours do not work on you at all.” He sank into his chair and laid his head in his hands. “You must never reveal any of the non-human aspects of my appearance to _anyone_. Not even your friends. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir. I promise, but can you tell me why? You’re so beautiful, I’d think you would want people to know it.”

Snape’s breath hitched and a red flush spread up his face. “I… I… _what_ did you say?”

Harry frowned, uncertain if he had crossed a line somewhere or not. “Um… I asked you why you want to hide when you’re so beautiful, sir.”

“Sweet Circe!” Snape buried his face in his hands. “I… n-no one’s ever called me that before.”

Harry gaped. “But… _why_? You _are_ beautiful. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you do, and I can’t understand how anyone who saw you could miss it.”

Snape coughed and rubbed his red cheeks. “That… that is the issue, Harry. Most people do _not_ see me. They see the image I project, which is of a rather plain human. My hair is oily, my nose is too big, and my lips too thin. I am stark and sallow and bitter. And that is all most people see when they look at me.”

“Oh. Um… what does sallow mean, sir?”

“Yellow. It is an unhealthy tinge of yellow.”

Harry huffed. “But your skin isn’t yellow at all, sir. It’s pale, yes, but clear and lovely.”

Snape’s claws dug into the surface of his desk and his hands trembled. “Oh.”

“And your hair is fab. God, I’d kill for hair like that.” At Snape’s flinch, Harry revised his statement. “Not _really_ , sir, but your hair really is beautiful.” And Harry _really_ wanted to touch it and see if it was as soft as it looked. Face flaming, he babbled the rest of his thoughts out in a rush. “And your nose, well, I’ll give you that it’s big for a human, but I don’t think you _are_ human, sir, and it’s interesting either way. I like the way it looks. And your eyes are so beautiful! I—”

“Enough,” Snape choked out. “Gods, I am on fire.” He cupped his bright red cheeks and rubbed them. “T-thank you, Harry. No one has ever been so liberal with their praise for my appearance, to be sure.” He took a shaky breath and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit. I think we must take this conversation to the headmaster.”

Harry gasped and sank into the chair, heart thundering in his ears. “D-did I say something wrong, sir?”

“No, not wrong, but concerning nonetheless.” At Harry’s worried expression, Snape laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You are not in trouble, Harry. Simply sit and wait there. I will ask Headmaster Dumbledore if he is able to see us at this time. Be aware, if he has a visitor, I will have to pretend to be angry at you. I do not mean it, little one. It is only a mask I must wear to keep us both safe.”

Something tight and painful inside Harry’s chest relaxed. “So today in class… you didn’t mean it?”

Severus smoothed Harry’s hair and shook his head. “No. Not a word of it. I am sorry I hurt you.”

Harry sighed and gave the man a happy smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you don’t really think I’m spoiled and awful.”

Snape’s eyes filled with pain. “I think you are as far from spoiled as it is possible to be.” He traced his thumb over Harry’s scar and stepped back. “Wait there, child. I must use the fire to speak to the headmaster. I will need to place my head in the flames, but there is a special powder on the mantel that makes it cool so I am not burned. Do not be afraid.”

Harry nodded and worried his lip between his teeth. He trusted Snape, but the thought of him sticking his head into the fire still made him nervous.

“You… you’ll be careful, right?”

Snape paused halfway through opening the silver tin on his mantel and gave Harry a soft smile. “I promise.”

Harry released his breath in a sigh. “Okay. I just don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Thank you, little one. I promise I will be fine. Now, wait here a moment and remember to look upset.”

Harry imagined Snape being burned by the flames, and his face twisted into a terrified expression of its own accord. Gods, he hoped that powder worked. Did it go off? Merlin, he was really scared.

“Well done, Harry. I’ll be just a moment.”

Snape tossed a pinch of powder into the fire. Harry gasped as the flames turned a vibrant green.

Snape called out, “Headmaster Dumbledore’s office, Hogwarts,” and knelt before the fire.

A room appeared beyond the fire, circular with loads of portraits on the walls, most asleep, and Snape poked his head in the flames. Harry held his breath, and only let it go when Snape didn’t cry out or act hurt. The fire _hadn’t_ burned him after all.

“Oh, thank God,” he whispered to himself and tried to calm his racing heart.

Snape called, “Headmaster? Albus, are you busy?”

After a brief pause, Dumbledore’s voice called from the other side of the fire. “Severus? I am here, my boy. Is everything all right?”

Severus murmured, “Are you alone?”

“Yes. I assume you have confidential information to discuss?”

“Indeed. Mister Potter and I must come to your office immediately. We have a problem, Albus.”

Dumbledore sighed. “Yes, I thought we might, considering past events. Come in, and we shall discuss it.”

Snape nodded and emerged from the flames, leaving his tail and one foot in the hearth. “Harry, step through the fire and follow it to the next grate.”

Harry gulped. “Into the fire? But….”

“You saw I was not burned, little one. It will not harm you, but wait before you leave. Come here.”

Harry obeyed. He hesitated near the fireplace. It didn’t _feel_ hot, but it still looked like fire. Could he really just walk through it without being burned?

Before he could protest, Snape plucked Harry’s spectacles off of his face and pocketed them. “Floo travel can be… disconcerting the first time. I will keep your glasses safe. You must only walk through the fire to the next hearth and remember to keep your elbows and knees in. It will twirl you about, but it will not hurt you.”

Harry hesitated, staring at the blurry green flames in trepidation.

“Harry.”

He looked into Snape’s concerned blue eyes.

Snape laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder. His claws didn’t hurt like this, with Harry’s school robe to protect his skin.

“Do you trust me, child?”

Harry’s fear rushed out of him, and he slumped against the angel’s arm. “Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I’ll go now.”

Snape squeezed his shoulder and guided him into the flames. The fire spun him around once or twice, and when it stopped he stood on the other side of the office he had seen through their fire. With a gulp, he stepped through the flames and hoped he wouldn’t be burned this time either.

Thank God, the flames only felt a little warm as he stepped into Dumbledore’s office. The old man was waiting for him and caught Harry as he stumbled out of the grate.

“Good evening, Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore with a congenial smile. “Please, follow the stairs behind you up to my quarters.”

Harry gulped. “Your quarters, sir?”

“Yes, child. We do not discuss Severus’ situation in the office for fear someone might overhear, and Severus cannot come through until you are away from the hearth regardless.”

“Oh. Yes, sir. I’ll go now then.”

“Wait,” came Snape’s voice. “Albus, his spectacles.”

Snape passed them through the fire, and Dumbledore passed them to Harry.

“There you are, child. We will be right up. Make yourself at home. I will have tea and biscuits for you in a moment.”

 _Biscuits?_ He could have _biscuits_? Harry gave him a bright grin and raced up the stairs to the sound of Dumbledore’s soft chuckle.

Harry found himself in an explosion of purple of all sorts. Everything from the carpet to the ceiling boasted some shade of the vibrant hue. Gold stars and silver crescent moons accented the décor in several areas, and several paintings lined the walls. A young woman with a blue dress watched him from over the mantel, her eyes curious and wary. Another painting of an older couple hung on the wall over the fireplace, but unlike the girl, they didn’t move. A Muggle painting, he supposed.

Harry made his way to a dusky violet sofa in front of the fireplace and toed at the knitted rug under his feet. The artisan had tied strips of all hues of purple, yellow, and red together to make a braided oval rug like he had seen at Mrs. Figg’s house. Though he wouldn’t have chosen such bright colours from himself, he liked the feel of it and spent several moments examining its construction, until a hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts.

“Mrs. Weasley made that, I believe,” said Snape—Severus?—with a gentle smile. “Your friend’s mother. She is quite skilled with fibre arts.”

“She _made_ this?” Harry rubbed his booted toe across the rug and grinned. “I like it.” He looked up and smiled at Dumbledore too. “Sir, why is everything here purple?”

Dumbledore chuckled and sat on the sofa in front of Harry. “For the simple reason that it is my favourite colour, dear boy.” He motioned to the sofa beside Harry. “Sit down, Severus, and we shall discuss this.”

He waved his wand about, and a steaming teapot, three cups, condiments, and a plate of biscuits of all sorts appeared. Harry’s mouth watered at the sight of the chocolate-covered kind. He had always wanted to try one, but Aunt Petunia said that sweets and biscuits were for _normal_ little boys.

“Help yourself, Harry,” said Dumbledore with a sad smile. “Severus tells me you didn’t have much opportunity to taste sweet things growing up, and that is quite the shame.”

Harry froze halfway to the biscuit tray. “You knew? You _knew_ and you left me there?”

Dumbledore winced. “Harry, you remember Hagrid told you of Voldemort and—”

Snape flinched and clapped a hand over his arm.

“Oh, forgive me, Severus,” Dumbledore said, his expression contrite. “I only meant to use a name Harry would recognise. I did not intend to hurt you.”

Harry took Professor Snape’s hand in his. “Are you okay?”

Snape looked at their conjoined hands with a stunned expression and spoke softly, as if afraid to break the spell. “It hurts when that name is spoken around me. It hurts my arm. But I am well enough now.”

Harry gave him a worried look. “Why does it hurt, sir?”

Snape sighed. “It is a long story, little one, and it has much to do with what Headmaster Dumbledore was trying to tell you before. Listen, please.”

“Oh. Yes, sir.”

“Harry,” said Dumbledore in a solemn voice, “we would have rather waited until you were older to explain this, but I think Severus and I will have little choice but to tell you now since you have seen much of the truth for yourself. But it is very dangerous, and one word of this conversation to anyone outside these rooms might result in Severus’ death, yours, or both. Please, you must swear to me that you will not speak of this outside these walls. Perhaps you might tell your friends about the truth of your own heritage and You-Know-Who—whom I will call Tom from this point on, as it is his name and his self-made title hurts Severus—but they cannot know Severus was here to help explain or that he is not human. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded. “I promise, sir. I like Professor Snape. I would never hurt him.”

Snape squeezed Harry’s hand and wrapped his wing around the boy’s shoulders. The soft warmth and gentle pressure, like a blanket against Harry’s skin, made him feel safe. Protected. He leaned into the comfort a little and couldn’t help smiling.

Dumbledore smiled, too. “I am glad to see the two of you taking comfort from one another. Severus has watched over you for so very long, Harry.”

“I know. I saw him on my roof.”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened. “Did you? Even under the cloak?”

“Yes,” Snape said with a grim expression. “Hence my… concerns for how we shall handle this in public.”

“Yes, I see what you mean.” Dumbledore sighed. “Very well, we shall go straight to the explanation then, once you’ve helped yourself to one of those chocolate biscuits, Harry.”

Harry blushed, wondering how the old man knew which one he wanted. “You’re sure I can really have them?”

“Of course, little one.” Snape cuddled him against his side. “You never should have been denied such small treats. Perhaps if your family could not afford them, it would not be an issue, but the Dursleys had no problem affording massive indulgences for their spoiled brat son.” He nudged Harry and gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Go on, take a few just to spite those horrid monsters.”

Harry giggled and piled a few of the biscuits on his plate, including two of the chocolate kind. “Yeah! They can’t punish me for it here, can they?”

Snape smirked. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Harry grinned and bit into one of the chocolate biscuits. It was the best thing he had ever tasted, second only to the treacle tart at the welcoming feast. “Oh. Those are brilliant!”

“I’m rather partial to the lemon kind myself.” Dumbledore floated a yellow biscuit onto Harry’s plate.

Severus snorted. “You would eat lemons for every meal if you could, old man.” He floated a biscuit with a red centre next to the yellow one. “Raspberry jelly biscuits. I like those quite a bit.”

Harry grinned and tried the raspberry kind. Sweet butter biscuit, chocolate fudge along the bottom, and tangy sweetness filled his mouth. “Oh, lovely. I think I do too.”

“I am glad to see it, Harry,” said Dumbledore with a genuine smile. “You have been without joy for far too long. But now, we must discuss the situation with Severus. Feel free to eat your biscuits and help yourself to some tea while we talk.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, once he had swallowed a bite of raspberry biscuit.

“Now then,” Dumbledore began, “a long time ago, before you were born, Severus was a very troubled young man.”

Snape cleared his throat.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Young _yokai_ , I should say.”

Harry blinked. “You’re not an angel?”

Severus winced and drew back, as if in preparation for a blow. “I am… half-angelic, in a sense. I am a special class of yokai, a Japanese type of demon. My class is part canine Tengu and part angel. It is the highest class of the part-canine order. My mother is a Nine-Tailed Tengu, also known as a Ninetails. She looks much like a part-human wolf with, obviously, nine tails. She is the highest class of the full canine order, but we are both demons.”

“Really? Huh. I always thought you were an angel. I mean, _all_ angel, but with a few wolf parts.” Harry shrugged and leaned against Severus. “Whatever you are, I know you’re good. Don’t be afraid, sir.”

Severus took a shuddering breath and the sheen returned to his eyes. “You… you truly will just… _accept_ me? Even knowing I am half-demonic and was not always a good person?”

“Well, you’re a good person now. And you’ve always been good to me. So yeah.”

“Merlin.” Tears streaked down Severus’ face, but he jerked his tail across it to hide them. “I… I never imagined….”

“Hey… it’s okay, sir. It’s all right. Don’t cry.”

Severus gave Harry a shy smile and squeezed the boy’s hand. “I… thank you, Harry. True acceptance has been so rare in my life, that I am honoured and a little overwhelmed that you have given it so freely. I am well, only a little stunned.”

Harry smiled and nestled his head against Severus’ shoulder. “That’s all right then.” He gave the yokai a worried look. “Is this okay? Am I bothering you? I just… I’ve never had anyone I could touch before. Even just a little touch. I feel better when you hug me.”

Severus wrapped his wing and arm tight around Harry’s shoulders and rubbed his arm slowly. “I understand, little one. It is much the same for me, so, though I have been a… shy being most of my life, I find your presence soothing as well. You are safe with me, Harry. Always.”

Harry gave him a radiant smile. “Yeah? Brilliant.” He laid his head against Severus’ shoulder again. “Okay, Headmaster. I think we’re all right now if you want to go on with your story.”

Dumbledore gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Harry, for welcoming him as you have done. He _is_ a good yokai, but so few have treated him as such that he has trouble believing it. I think your trust will help him recover.”

“Albus,” Severus chided, cheeks red. “Please.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I _am_ embarrassing you a bit. But I am only happy for you, child.” He dabbed at his eyes with a violently purple handkerchief. “Ah, forgive me. It seems we are all a bit emotional tonight. So let us get on with the story now, yes? Don’t forget your biscuits, Harry.”

Harry nodded and set his plate on his lap. He nibbled on his raspberry biscuit as the headmaster picked up the threads of his tale again.

“As I was saying, when Severus was a student here, he was quite troubled, and for good reason. Four students here… well, they bullied him quite severely. As his parents and town were also cruel to him, and I could not stop the bullies’ abuse no matter how I tried, Severus grew up believing no one on the side of Light cared for him at all….”

 

* * *

 

Severus felt Harry snuggle against his side, knowing the human wanted him to know that at least one person on the side of the Light loved him. He wondered how long that would last when Harry knew what he had done, what his folly had cost them all.

Throughout Albus’ tale, Harry stayed ensconced in Severus’ wing and arm, so involved in the story, he forgot the plate of biscuits on his knees. When Albus reached the part about Severus being tortured for trying to spare Harry’s mum, the boy whimpered and sniffled, and Severus made him a cup of tea with a bit of calming draught added.

“Here, little one. Drink this. You will feel better.”

Harry sipped at the hot beverage and gave Severus a look full of tears. “Sir… I’m sorry.”

Severus’ jaw nearly fell off his face. “ _You_ are sorry? Dear Merlin, child, I am the one who should apologise to you! My folly, my blind loyalty to that monster took your parents and childhood from you! I… it is my fault your parents are dead.”

Harry frowned and shook his head. “But it’s not, sir. You told him the prophecy, yes, but you only heard part of it, and you had no idea he would come for me. You didn’t even know Mum was pregnant.”

“No, but does it absolve me? I knew, or at least suspected, he would attack _someone_ for it. I did not imagine he would be so depraved as to attack an infant; I assumed he would monitor the chosen one as they grew and attack them as an adult, but I am no less guilty for it.”

Harry laid his head on Severus’ arm. “Maybe you _were_ guilty of that much. That’s not a good thing to do, no. But you’re sorry, aren’t you?”

“I regret it terribly, but my remorse does not bring your family back, Harry.”

“Maybe not, but it’s enough for me.”

Severus’ heart thumped and a keening, pleading wave of desperation clawed its way into his chest, wrapping around his stomach and chest and squeezing painfully.

“I forgive you, sir,” Harry murmured. “It’s all right.”

“I….” A strangled whimper escaped him, and he grabbed Harry into a tight embrace. “I do not know how you can possibly forgive me, but gods, I am so thankful that you do.”

“Let it go, sir. You tried your best to save them, and you’ve watched over me for years. It’s okay. You aren’t guilty any longer.”

Severus’ breath caught. “But—”

“No. You’re forgiven. So you don’t have to feel guilty for it anymore.”

Severus pressed his face into Harry’s shoulder and fought back tears. Forgiven. Not guilty. The words rolled around in his brain, foreign and lovely and terrifying all at once. He had defined himself by his guilt for so long, he didn’t know how to cope with redemption. Without it, what did his life mean?

Perhaps, Severus thought, as he held Harry and struggled to come to terms with his acceptance, he might try to live for this, this sweet, gentle feeling.

He might, rather than base his life upon guilt, define his existence by love.

A light kiss fell against his furry ear, and Severus clutched Harry tighter. Gods, he had never expected to be so thoroughly forgiven, so cherished. He brushed a kiss of his own against Harry’s hair and thanked whatever twist of fate that had brought him such a precious gift.

As Severus moved back and wiped his face, his heart raw and blasted open with the unconditional acceptance Harry had given him, he thought _this_ would be the thing that truly kept him from ever giving into the darkness inside him again. Vows were well and good, but this—the gentle, unwavering love of this sweet little boy—it made him want to be a better yokai. It gave him the strength to face whatever came, if only he could protect the rare, loving child who had given him a second chance.

He wrapped his wing around Harry’s back once more and vowed, at that moment, no matter what the future might bring, he would never betray that love again.

Severus gave Harry a tentative smile and petted his hair. “Thank you, little one, for your forgiveness. I swear I will do my best to live up to the faith you have placed in me.”

Harry grinned. “I know you will, sir.”

“Ah… you do?”

“Yeah. You’re my guardian demon.”

Severus blinked, stared at Harry, and burst into soft laughter, the first true mirth he had felt since before Lily had left him. The feeling left him awed, and he vowed again that he would do everything within his power to honour the precious gift this sweet little boy had given him. He murmured in warm, happy tones his adult voice had never had cause to use until now, until Harry, “That I am, child. That I am.”


	5. The Turban of Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _AN: Harry's first year, altered to fit my version of canon._

#  **Chapter 5**

##  _The Turban of Evil_

### 3 October, 1992

Over the past month, a close bond of friendship had developed between Severus and little Harry. The boy made it plain he didn’t enjoy pretending to be enemies in public or having to lie to his friends about their bond, but he did it anyway because he valued Severus’ trust and friendship above all.

Merlin, it still stunned Severus. He found himself going about in a daze more often than not, his entire foundation rocked to its core by a weedy little boy with messy black hair and brilliant green eyes he remembered too well. He still had no idea how Harry could have come to care about him so strongly in so short a time, but then, perhaps he should take more of their history into account than recent events. Severus hadn’t been _speaking_ to Harry for long, but Harry had seen Severus guarding and protecting him his entire life. It must have made an impression, even if Severus still couldn’t believe Harry had seen him despite his glamours and the invisibility cloak.

A clairvoyant. How strange. He hadn’t known anyone in the Potter family to be a Seer, but then, perhaps it skipped a generation… or twelve. Or perhaps Lily’s line had been squibs rather than Muggles and the gift came from her side. Either option seemed unlikely, but Severus couldn’t deny that Harry saw through all his glamours and tricks. He always had done. And even now, the boy had a fascination with Severus’ ears and tail—appendages he shouldn’t have been able to interact with at all if Severus’ glamours had worked. Severus didn’t often let the child pet him, though. He didn’t much enjoy feeling like a mutt.

A knock at his office door interrupted his thoughts. After office hours, which meant it would either be a fellow professor with a quandary only Severus could solve, a Slytherin with an emergency, or Harry. He hoped it was the latter as he stalked to the door, pasted on a glare, and jerked it open.

“What?”

Harry slipped into the office without saying a word, invisibility cloak tucked under his arm, and Severus snarled and closed the door behind the boy. Once he had warded the office, he let the scowl slip from his face and greeted Harry with his usual hesitant smile. He still couldn’t believe Harry accepted it so easily.

Harry greeted Severus with a hug to his waist and a grin. “Hi! I missed you.”

Severus ruffled the boy’s hair, earning a pout from the boy. He couldn’t resist that fluffy mop, even if it irritated Harry sometimes when he mussed it up.

“I missed you as well, little one, though I must admit I still find your regard for me… stunning.”

Harry gave him an amused scoff. “You should really have more faith in yourself. You’re a good… er… person, sir.”

Severus chuckled and conjured a sofa for them. “Would you like hot chocolate today?”

“ _Ooh_! Yes, please!”

Severus called a house elf and asked for the requested drink with cinnamon and whipped cream and some fresh raspberry and butter biscuits. He had started this ritual shortly after Harry started coming to his office to talk every night with the intent of making up for all the long years Harry had gone without a single treat or the slightest affection.

Harry was making up for it now. The boy, more often than not, sat curled into Severus’ side. He had fallen asleep that way more than once before, and Severus always found it difficult to make himself rouse the boy. It was sweet to watch over him while he slept, and humbling to know Harry trusted him enough to let himself be so vulnerable.

The elf popped in with a tray of steaming hot chocolate, piled with cream, cinnamon, and chocolate curls. Severus didn’t often indulge along with his young friend, but he _did_ have a bit of a soft spot for rich, dark chocolate, and couldn’t resist a nice cup of cocoa. He couldn’t have it often as canines and chocolate didn’t mix, and he had just enough canine features to render it a problem, but, thank Merlin, he had learned to brew an antidote to chocolate toxicity long ago. At least it allowed him to enjoy a bit of a splurge every now and then.

With a sigh of contentment, Harry took a cup of cocoa and curled up against Severus’ side. “Brilliant. Thank you, sir.”

Severus smoothed Harry’s hair and wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders. For a moment, he simply watched Harry enjoy his cocoa. Years of denial had taught the boy to take great joy in simple pleasures. Much like Severus himself, if it came to that. Severus took his own cup and sipped at the sweet beverage, though he had to go through a mountain of cream to find the chocolate.

When he finished his sip, Harry came up from his own cup spluttering with laughter.

“What?”

Harry chuckled and rubbed Severus’ nose. His finger came away with a dollop of cream on the tip.

“You looked adorable with whipped cream on your nose.”

Severus raised an eyebrow and gave him a forbidding look, though he feared the hot blush across his cheeks must have spoiled the effect. “I am _not_ adorable.”

“You are to me.”

Severus’ heart thumped at those words. So often, Severus had denied every good quality about himself, having long-since learned how little others valued him. But Harry would simply shrug and tell him he liked him as he was.

_“You’re good to me, sir.”_

Such unconditional acceptance came as a shock to one who had never been good enough before. Even Lily had suggested he might change this or that, hinted that he didn’t socialise enough or he shouldn’t be so standoffish. She might have been right on both counts, but Severus’ prickly nature came as a direct result of trauma. He had hoped she might have showed him more compassion, but she never stopped dropping hints until their friendship ended. And then, he missed them. He had even tried to do as she asked, but it had never been enough. _He_ had never been enough. It still hurt, even now.

The fact that Harry accepted him as he was without so much as hinting that he needed to change the slightest thing… it left him breathless with wonder, and a bit suspicious, too. Life had never been so kind to him. He kept looking for the catch, but so far, he had yet to find it. Hard as it was for him to accept, it seemed Harry truly did care about him just as he was.

Harry laid his head against Severus’ shoulder and sighed again, his expression warm with pure happiness. “I never feel safe out there, but right here, I feel so happy and protected.”

And again, his simple display of trust and affection left Severus reeling. “Why, Harry? The world thinks me to be a monster, and yet you feel safe enough to sleep against me. To drink hot cocoa with me and trust me not to harm you. Why do you trust me so much?”

“Well, I don’t really care what the world thinks. _I_ like you, and I think you’re brilliant just as you are.”

“How, Harry? How can you look at me and… and find me so good when everyone before you has seen nothing of worth in me at all?”

Harry took Severus’ hand, avoiding his claws, and held it in his lap. “I just do, sir.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“Well, let me put it like this. My relatives think I’m a monster and a freak just because I have magic. Do you think it’s true because they do?”

Severus scowled. “Of _course_ not. Your relatives are vile excuses of human beings. Why should I take their opinion of anything?”

“Just so.”

Severus stared at their joined hands. “It is not the same, Harry. Your relatives are cruel, but there are many good people who believe me to be utterly worthless.”

“And the entire neighbourhood of Little Whinging thinks I’m criminally-insane and a ruthless troublemaker. Do you believe it because some of those people are decent?”

“That is debatable,” Severus growled.

So Little Whinging thought Harry as mad and dangerous as Bellatrix Lestrange? Well, Severus would do something about _that_ when Harry returned home for the summer.

“Sir, it doesn’t matter.” Harry set his cocoa aside and took Severus’ hand. “It doesn’t matter if the people who think you’re not good enough are decent or not. They don’t know you. They’ve never taken the time to know you. They’ve never seen the gentle, loving being you are when the world isn’t breathing down your neck. So it doesn’t matter what they think. They don’t have the right to judge you when they don’t have the slightest clue who you are.”

“But, child, my being is half dark. Just by nature of what I am, the public is wise to fear me.”

Harry squeezed Severus’ hand. “Sir, we all have darkness inside us. Even me. Just look at Riddle. He’s purely human and he’s a monster. You, though, maybe you do have darkness inside, but you’ve chosen to follow the light, and that’s all that matters.”

Severus reeled, stunned at the depth of Harry’s acceptance for him. He wondered if he would ever grow accustomed to being _wanted_. To being forgiven.

“One day, sir,” Harry said with a smile, “I’m going to teach you that it’s okay for you to be loved.”

Severus set his cocoa on the side table, caught Harry into a hug, and thanked whatever benevolent deity had sent him such a wonderful friend.

 

* * *

 

Harry liked most of his professors. McGonagall was stern, but fair and knowledgeable, Flitwick made him laugh and taught him loads all at once, and the maternal and friendly Professor Sprout had forgotten more about plants than most people ever learned.

He adored Severus especially, though he had decided to think of the man as two different but conjoined people for safety’s safe. Severus was his dearest friend and guardian, his mentor, his companion, his confidant, and the one person he admired above all others. Professor Snape, much as Harry respected him, had to be cold and cruel to survive. Harry couldn’t like that alias at all, though he loved the yokai behind it.

It helped to think of them as separate people, and in reality, they were. The Snape that Severus presented to the public had died many years before when Dumbledore and Harry had brought him out of darkness and given him a second chance. The once-dark yokai had given the demonic side of his nature into the guardianship of his angelic side the moment Dumbledore had offered him a home, and Harry’s easy acceptance of his yokai features and himself in general had brought the tender heart within him to life. Now, he only wore the old Severus Snape as a mask.

But even Professor Snape was a good teacher. He had to be a bastard in class, but no one ever got hurt. No one ever failed. Anyone who really suffered, like Neville, got matched up with a tutor who could fill the gaps Severus’ role didn’t allow him to. And Professor Snape knew more about potions than anyone Harry had ever met. Not that Harry had met many potions masters, but he gathered from the respect Severus held within Hogwarts despite his masks that none of them could hold a candle to his friend anyway. And Harry learned well under Professor Snape and Severus alike. He respected both sides of the yokai, and loved him either way.

Not all of his teachers had earned his admiration, though. Binns bored him to tears. He bored _everyone_ to tears, rather. No one managed to learn much in his class save Hermione Granger, who soaked up anything resembling knowledge, no matter how dry and boring. The other students used history as time to catch up on their other classes or sleep. Ron typically started snoring three minutes into class, and Harry spent much of the lesson working on his homework in aid of finding more time to spend with Severus in the evenings.

As much as he disliked Binns, however, nothing compared to Harry’s blatant hatred for Quirinus Quirrell, He couldn’t pinpoint what it was that left him so wary of the great, stuttering lump, but something set his nerves on edge whenever he came within five metres of the man. Something cold and evil, a malevolent force so dark, Harry swore he could _taste_ it in the air near the garlic-infused idiot.

Severus, too, had warned Harry away from him. As had Dumbledore. And with both of his favourite professors set firmly against his least favourite, Harry knew he had good reason to worry. To that end, he kept his distance and didn’t speak up much in class.

He had _hoped_ that was enough to protect him.

“Now, c-c-class, the thing you have t-to understand about g-g-grindylows is this: they have v-v-very brittle f-f-fingers. Look here. I will d-draw a d-d-diagram.”

Quirrell tended to have everything he wanted on the board ready to go at the start of the lesson, so the fact that he planned to add to it had Harry suspicious and intrigued.

Until the professor turned his back and the voice started. _“Harry… Potter….”_

Harry jolted and looked around, but no one paid him any mind.

_“Ah… Harry Potter, I sssee you.”_

Harry gulped and nudged Ron’s shoulder. “Mate,” he whispered, “did you hear that?”

Ron frowned. “Hear what?”

“Someone hissed my name. Like a snake or something.”

“A _snake_?”

“Yeah, didn’t you h—”

The voice started again. _“Harry Potter… kill… kill… kill!”_

“Shite,” Harry gasped and jerked back.

“Mate? Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Didn’t you hear it? It wants to kill me!”

Ron gave him a wary look. “Harry, I reckon you’ve been staying up too late. Working yourself too hard. Nobody said anything about killing you.”

“But….”

Harry looked around, biting his lip in worry, but the other students all had their eyes on Quirrell, and no quick motions gave away a sudden turn.

“You’re sure you didn’t hear it, Ron?”

“Don’t you think I’d have done something more than look at you if I had done?”

“Oh.” Harry’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, I reckon you’re right. I don’t hear it anymore anyway.”

“See? You’re just working yourself too hard. We’ll take some time to relax after classes, maybe go for a walk. Play some chess. You’ll be fine.”

“Y-yeah. I… yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Harry stifled a snort and opened his mouth to reply, but Quirrell interrupted him. “If I c-c-could have your attention, please?”

Harry winced and focused on the lesson again, though the strange voice he had heard still troubled him. Should he tell Professor Snape about it? Maybe the yokai would know what was happening.

But… what if it _was_ just in his head? What if he _had_ simply imagined it? Would the professor think he was a freak like his relatives did? Would he abandon Harry?

Merlin, Harry didn’t think he could bear that.

Maybe Ron had a point. He would take it easy after classes for a while, and if the voice came back after some rest, well… _then_ he might tell the professor. But not yet.

A tendril of guilt curled around Harry’s stomach, but he ignored it. Everything would be all right. He was sure of it. Really.

“So you see,” Quirrell went on, “though g-g-grindylows will d-drag you under if you g-give them half the chance, it’s q-q-quite easy to break their grip….”

 

* * *

 

Harry stood, triumphant and terrified, over the unconscious troll. He was drenched, panting, and covered in gods knew what slimy substances, but they were all alive. Ron and he had saved Hermione. Gods, what a rush. It was almost worth the terror and chaos… until the professors arrived and Harry caught sight of the anger within Professor Snape’s eyes. Dear Merlin, the yokai looked as though he might combust.

“Detention, Potter. _Now_. I’m fully aware this had to be _your_ harebrained scheme, and you shall pay for it, whether Miss Granger thinks it prudent to cover for your foolishness or not!”

McGonagall opened her mouth as if she might protest, but at one look from Professor Snape, she shut it again quickly.

“Granger, Weasley, off with you before I decide to take you down with the ship.” He waited until they had almost scurried out of reach. “Oh, and fifty points from Gryffindor. _Each_!”

Ron started to grumble, but Hermione clapped her hand over his mouth and dragged him away.

“Y-yes, sir, sorry, sir.”

She led him away, and at the yokai’s stern glare, Harry followed after Professor Snape, terrified this would be the mistake that broke everything. He should have realised he couldn’t have a real friendship with an adult. He should have realised no one other than Ron, and maybe Hermione now, would ever really care about him. Gods, it was all his fault, too. He had just meant to save her, but it could have all gone so wrong, and… and….

And now he had lost his dearest friend because of it.

Tears had blurred his vision long before they reached the dungeons, but despite the occasional stumble, Harry refused to let them fall.

The third time he tripped, a hand fell upon his shoulder, gentler than he had expected though Snape’s claws still looked vicious, and turned him to face the professor.

“Potter,” the yokai said in a voice barely above a growl, though Harry could swear he heard a note of concern under the anger, “are you injured?”

Harry looked away so he mightn’t have to see the hatred in the professor’s dark eyes. “N-no, sir.”

“Do _attempt_ not to trip over your feet like a buffoon every ten metres then.”

Snape’s voice was cold, and yet, the hand that stayed on Harry’s shoulder, that guided him towards the potions master’s office, didn’t pinch or push. Instead, Snape’s thumb moved in a small, soothing gesture over Harry’s collarbone. Why? Didn’t he hate Harry now?

 He dared not utter a word though the professor’s actions confused him. Instead, he followed Snape into his office, head down and eyes swimming. He kept his eyes on the floor and his sniffles quiet until the door shut behind him and the usual wards went up.

“Harry….” There was no anger in Professor Snape’s voice, only terrible pain. “Oh _gods,_ child.” Strong arms caught him up and held him tight, and hot tears fell hard and fast against his hair. “For Merlin’s sake, _never_ terrify me like that again!”

Harry’s breath caught and his heart jolted. “S-sir? I… aren’t you angry?”

Severus—this wasn’t his cold professor any longer, it was his friend—he held Harry still tighter. His entire body was trembling.

“No, I am not angry, child, only frightened. Did you think that I was?”

“You… you looked so… and I thought—maybe I deserved you to hate me. I thought I’d ruined everything, and—” Harry’s voice broke on a sob. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, little one.” Severus knelt and tugged Harry close, holding him tighter than he had ever done before. “Forgive me. I suppose I _was_ angry, but not for the reasons you have thought.” He held Harry’s face and rubbed tears away. “Ssh, hush now. I could never hate you, child. You are my friend and always will be. I care for you more than anyone in my life other than Albus, and it is for that reason alone that I was angry. You _frightened_ me, Harry.”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, little one. I know you only meant to help Miss Granger, but tonight could have ended so badly, Harry. Do you have any idea how dangerous mountain trolls are? I have no idea how you managed to defeat one with nothing but two other first years to help, but you were lucky— _exceedingly_ so—not to be crushed or torn to bits. And that was what made me sharp—the fear that I might have lost you. That I still might, if you continue to place yourself in such danger without a thought.”

Harry whimpered and buried his head in Severus’ shoulder. “S-sorry, so sorry. Was just trying to save her. Thought no one would listen. No one ever has done before, not until you.”

“Harry, I am not the only person who cares for you and would risk their lives to see you safe. The professors here are meant to protect you and would rush to your aid in a moment, if you had only asked. The headmaster, especially, would do anything to see you safe.” Severus took a shaky breath. “And I would die before letting you come to harm.”

“B-but I couldn’t ask you, sir. I’d have gotten you hurt if I tried.”

“Of course you may ask, particularly in an emergency. If I am the only person about, no one would question it, though I would need to act as though I did not care until we were out of sight and earshot.”

Severus squeezed Harry close against his chest. “Please, the next time something like this happens, _ask_ an adult for help. Please, never be so reckless again.” He leaned back to look into Harry’s eyes, and the boy’s heart broke at the sight of tears running down his professor’s face unchecked. “Harry, promise me. Promise me you will never put yourself at such needless risk again. I have lost everyone I have ever cared about save only you and Albus. Please do not make me lose you, too.”

“I promise, sir. I promise.” Harry buried a storm of tears in Severus’ strong shoulder, relieved and guilty at once. “M’sorry, so sorry.”

“Ssh,” Severus whispered. “Ssh, it’s all right now. You’re safe. I have you, and I still care about you, little one.”

Harry clung to Severus’ back and trembled in his arms, dizzy with the sure knowledge that Severus _loved_ him. That he cared for Harry’s life more than his own and would be miserable if Harry came to harm.

“Won’t scare you like this again. I promise. Never scare you again.”

Strong wings folded him up and a soft tail wrapped around him. “Thank you,” Severus murmured against Harry’s hair, his voice tremulous from emotion. “Thank you.”

Harry’s tears didn’t stop for a long time.

 

* * *

 

Harry held on to his bucking broom like mad and, in between rounds of trying not to die, searched the crowds for the arsehole who wanted him dead. _Someone_ had to be jinxing him—Nimbus 2000s didn’t suddenly decide to unseat their riders for no reason at all.

He caught sight of Professor Snape watching him and muttering, his expression intense with concentration, but knew better than to suspect his best friend. Snape was trying to keep him _on_ his broom, Harry was sure of it. But he couldn’t see anyone else chanting….

A flash of blue caught his attention. His broom gave a violent lurch and tossed him off, down to one hand, and Harry had to struggle with all his might to hold on. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of blue again—Hermione’s bluebell flames creeping up Professor Snape’s robes. The yokai had sensed them, no doubt, but he refused to break eye-contact with Harry. He refused to stop fighting to save him.

Until McGonagall also saw the flames and shoved Professor Snape over, attempting to smother out the fire. Hermione slipped away, but Harry hardly had time to notice before his broom gave a fiercer lurch than ever before and tossed him off. A terrified scream ripped from his throat… at least until something lodged itself in his windpipe and cut off his air. A bug? Even as he plummeted to the earth, he cursed his luck that if he somehow managed to avoid being splattered on the pitch, he would choke to death soon after.

He seemed to be falling too slow—shouldn’t he have already hit the ground? Hoping it came fast enough to save him, he summoned his broom nonverbally and leapt astride it again a half a metre from the ground. He tumbled off, still gasping and choking, and at Madam Hooch’s firm pat on the back, coughed up what looked oddly like….

“And he’s got the snitch! Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!”

“Near choked on it, more like,” said Madam Hooch with a huff.

Harry could only groan and slump onto the grass, panting, aching all over, and furious at his well-meaning friends.

 

* * *

 

Hermione tagged along after a stalking Harry, her voice apologetic and full of worry. “Harry, I’m _sorry._ I thought for sure Snape was jinxing you. He wasn’t breaking eye-contact, he hates you, and he was muttering under his breath. It looked so much like a jinx….”

“You know what else it looks like?” Harry couldn’t help the edge in his tone. “A bloody countercurse. Snape was trying to _save_ my life. Maybe he’s an arsehole, but he’s still a professor here, and we shouldn’t doubt his loyalties, even if he does hate me.”

Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I’m s-sorry, Harry. I was just trying to help.”

His irritation faded and resignation replaced it. This was what they were _supposed_ to think. Severus had to appear to hate Harry, even if he loved him in private. Gods, he hated this mess. She had only tried to help him. It wasn’t her fault that their situation gave her good reason to doubt Severus.

“It’s okay, ‘Mione. I mean, he _is_ mean a lot, so I guess it wasn’t so farfetched to think he might have been jinxing me.”

“Yeah,” said Ron with a frown. “We were so sure it was him.”

“I know. It’s all right.”

“It’s not, though,” Ron said, his expression tense with worry. “Harry, if Snape wasn’t jinxing you, then who was?”

“I don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

Norberta had a new home, and Harry had finished his detention… but at what cost? He woke up in the hospital wing weakened, cold save for a warm spot on his chest, and aching all over. His head, in particular, felt as though someone had crashed a lorry between his eyes. Mother of Merlin, what had happened to him?

“Harry?”

A pool of black hair moved up from his chest, revealing twitching silver ears and the pale, exhausted face of his yokai friend. “Oh, _Harry_. You’re awake!”

Professor Snape’s hand clutched on Harry’s, and the boy controlled his wince despite the pain of sharp claws in his palm. Severus didn’t mean it. He was only terrified for him.

“I’m here, sir,” Harry whispered, voice raspy and frail.

“Harry….” Severus blinked tears down his face. “Oh gods, I was so afraid.”

Harry rubbed his fingers against Severus’ and gave him a wan smile despite the pain. “I’m okay, sort of, but… what… what happened?”

Dumbledore sat on his other side. “Do you remember the forest?”

Harry frowned. “The forest… unicorns… _oh_!” He tried to sit up, but upon realising he hadn’t the strength, just rattled his fears off in a shaky, hoarse voice, but at least one with more strength than his earlier whispers. “Sir, there was something in the forest under a cloak and it was _drinking_ the unicorns’ blood! Is it a vampire?”

“Oh gods,” Severus breathed, his face stark white. “He is here, Albus. Somehow, the Dark Lord’s spirit is here.” He shuddered and clutched Harry’s hand tighter. “He can’t have you. I will not let him have you.”

This time, Harry couldn’t help but flinch and give a little whimper of pain. Severus drew back, horrified.

“Merlin, Harry! Why didn’t you tell me my claws had caught you?”

“Didn’t want to upset you,” Harry muttered as Severus healed his wrist. “You didn’t mean it. You were just scared.”

“Terrified.” Severus held Harry’s hand to his chest, this time keeping his claws away. “I am sorry, child. I did not intend to harm you.”

“It’s okay.” Harry rubbed Severus’ fingers and squeezed his hand. “I don’t understand though. Why do you say this means Vol—sorry, sir— _Riddle_ is here?”

“Well, Harry,” said Dumbledore, twinkle absent, “unicorns are powerful beings. Their very essence is innocence, purity, and life. Their blood has the power of birth, of creation, and… of resurrection.” The old man closed his eyes and continued in grim tones. “Unicorn blood will grant its drinker life, even if one is on the verge of death, but it comes at a terrible cost. To kill something so pure, so innocent just to extend one’s own life—the drinker will be cursed. They will live, yes, but it is a cursed life, a half life. Pain, weakness, infirmity—all are rife in the existence of one who would be so evil as to extend their life by murdering one of nature’s purest beings.”

“Dear _gods_ ,” Harry rasped, sickened. “Who would be so mad?” He paled. “Wait. Riddle. You think—that’s why you think it was Riddle. He’s trying to resurrect himself!”

“So it seems,” said Dumbledore with a sad shake of his head.

“But… how? You said he became like a spirit or a wraith after the curse rebounded on him. How could he kill unicorns and drink their blood if he hasn’t a corporeal body?”

 Severus shuddered and held Harry’s hand tighter. “Possession, little one. It is possible he has possessed a beast of the forest and used them to slaughter the unicorns.”

“Or a human,” said Dumbledore with a grimace.

Harry paled. “Sweet Merlin. So all this means he’s out there in the forest, somewhere, biding his time?”

Dumbledore nodded, eyes troubled. “We did not expect him to come so close so soon. I had hoped fear of his vulnerability would drive him away.”

Severus met Dumbledore’s eyes. “He _knows_ , Albus. He knows it is here. I have little doubt the unicorn blood is only a temporary measure until he can get his hands on….” He glanced to Harry and away. “Something better.”

Harry gasped. “Oh gods. He wants the stone. It’s protected, right? I mean, with more than just Fluffy?”

Severus and Dumbledore gaped at the boy.

“What?”

Severus fixed him with a piercing look. “How, precisely, did you learn of any of that, Harry? We had tried to keep it absolutely secret.”

Harry snorted. “I’m more observant than you give me credit for. So, is it?”

Dumbledore shook himself out of his daze. “Ah, yes, yes, the stone is protected. All of the instructors have placed enchantments around it. So please, do not go _looking_ for it, child.”

Harry frowned, bemused. “Why would I _want_ to? I’ve no desire to live forever. Everyone I knew and loved would die before me.”

Severus squeezed Harry’s hand. “You are a wise boy, Harry.”

Harry gave him a sad smile. “And I wouldn’t risk it anyway. You asked me not to be so reckless. I wouldn’t go after the stone unless I had absolutely no other choice.”

“Don’t go after it at all. If something is wrong, tell one of us.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you, little one.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks before the end of term, Harry heard the voice again as he passed Quirrell in the hall.

_‘Tonight. I will be reborn tonight.’_

“Reborn?”

Ron looked at him oddly and whispered, “What are you talking about?”

“Something just said it would be reborn tonight.” Harry froze. “The unicorns. Oh no. Hermione, Ron, we’ve got to—”

Quirrell looked over his shoulder, and Harry dragged his friends away, out of earshot of the evil man.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered once it was safe, “what’s going on?”

“I… well, a while ago, near the start of term, I heard a voice in Quirrell’s class. It said my name and that it wanted to kill me. Ron and I just put it down to stress, but I just heard it again, and this time it said it was going to be reborn tonight.” Harry gave her a terrified look. “Hermione, it’s Voldemort. I _know_ it is. I don’t know how I can hear him but no one else can, but I know it’s him.”

“But how, Harry? How could he be here?”

“Well, Dumbledore told me he could possess….”

Harry froze as he recalled the one person who had been in both places he had heard the voices and the pieces clicked together. Every hair on his body stood on end and his spine rang with the cold tingle of dread.

“Oh _shite_. It’s Quirrell! _That’s_ why he feels so bloody evil—Voldemort’s possessed him! Dear gods, we _have_ to warn the headmaster.”

“ _What_?” Hermione slammed her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. “Harry! Merlin, this is so dangerous. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Ron snorted. “Hermione, lay off. We thought it was stress, and besides, would _you_ want to tell people you’re hearing murderous voices in your head that no one else can hear?”

She winced. “Er… maybe not. But come on, we have to tell Dumbledore _right now_.”

Harry huffed, “Well, that’s what I’ve just said!”

“Stop arguing and start moving,” Ron called, already five metres ahead of them. “We’ve got to hurry.”

“Right.” Harry raced after his friend to the headmaster’s office, but once they got past the gargoyle, McGonagall answered.

“Er….” Harry stumbled on his tongue, thrown by her appearance.

“May I help you, Mister Potter?”

“Er… oh!” He shook himself out of his shock. “Ma’am, where’s the headmaster? It’s an emergency.”

She frowned. “The headmaster is gone on urgent business, but I can help you. What is it?”

Harry gulped. McGonagall would be far less likely to listen than the headmaster, but he had to try. “Er… it’s the stone, ma’am. The stone you’ve all put protections around.”

“You-Know-Who is in the castle, ma’am,” said Ron, picking up the thread of Harry’s thoughts.

“And it’s Quirrell,” said Hermione. “Riddle possessed him.”

“And he’s after the stone,” Harry took over. “That’s why he’s been killing the unicorns here—he’s trying to come back to life!”

“And with the headmaster gone,” Hermione said in a grim tone, “Quirrell has a clear shot.”

“You _have_ to call Professor Dumbledore back right away, ma’am,” said Harry. “Please. I can hear him, and Riddle said he would resurrect himself tonight!”

“He’s probably what drew the headmaster away in the first place,” Ron said.

“Just _hurry_ , ma’am,” Harry pleaded.

McGonagall stood stock still for a moment, her face ashen and her eyes wide, then she fixed the three of them with her sternest glare. “I have no idea how you know about the stone, but I assure you it is quite safe. _Professor_ Quirrell was one of the teachers to _protect_ the stone. He has no need to steal it, and You-Know-Who is long since gone. Go to your dorms, now, before I give you detention for interfering in business that has no bearing on you.”

She shut the door in their faces, and Harry sank back into his friends’ shoulders. “What do we do _now_?”

Hermione grimaced. “Another professor, maybe?”

Harry winced. “If McGonagall isn’t going to listen to us, Snape is the only one left who might be strong enough to help.”

And Severus would believe him. Harry was sure of that.

“ _Snape_?” Ron gave Harry a worried look. “Mate, that man is so evil, he’s probably helping Q—”

“Stop right there,” Harry snapped. “How many times must the man save my life before you work out that he’s not evil? A git, maybe, but not evil. Didn’t he save me at the quidditch match?”

Ron winced. “Well, we don’t really know for sure he wasn’t jinxing y—”

“The instant McGonagall knocked him down, I fell off my broom, Ron! How much more proof do you need?”

“He might start acting human for a change,” Ron muttered and might have gone on, but Hermione interrupted him with a gasp and a hand on his mouth.

“Oh gods, the match! I remember it now. I saw Quirrell chanting, too, but since we were both sure it was Snape trying to hurt you, I thought he was chanting the anti-jinx. But… but I thought… I thought I’d misjudged—I was so far away and it was hard to see under the stands—but I thought he had looked _satisfied_ when you fell, Harry.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron.

Ron groaned and dragged himself down the hall towards the stairs. “All right, all right. We’ll go ask the bat. Not that it’s going to do any good. If even our own head of house won’t believe us, what makes you think Snape will?”

“He might not,” Harry said grimly, “but he won’t take chances either. Whether he throws us out on our ear or not, he’ll call Dumbledore and warn him something is wrong. That much I’m sure of.”

“We’ll have to risk it anyway,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “He’s the only teacher left who’s strong enough to fight Riddle.”

“Flitwick might be,” Ron grumbled, but he raced down the stairs after Harry regardless.

“Flitwick is gone, too,” Hermione said. “Don’t you remember? He said he wouldn’t be about for office hours tonight. I asked him if he was all right after class, and he told me that his cousin isn’t expected to survive the night. He’s gone to St. Mungo’s to pay his last respects.”

“Damn. That means Snape really _is_ our last chance.”

“Yeah, so we’d best stop bitching about it and hurry it the hell up,” Harry snapped. “We don’t have _time_ to argue.”

“Right,” said Hermione and Ron at once and both tore off after Harry.

Harry’s booming knock on Severus’ office door and panicked cry went unanswered. He tried again, then a third time, and cried, “ _Please_. It’s an emergency!”

A portrait of a dark-haired, green-eyed man with a passing resemblance to Harry and Severus’ smirk appeared on the man’s door. “Is there any _particular_ reason you are so set on beating down the door to my chambers, young ones?”

“Er… _your_ chambers? This is Snape’s office, isn’t it?”

“Aye, and I am his guardian portrait, as for all the heads of my house.”

“Slytherin,” Harry said with a gasp. “You’re Salazar Slytherin?”

“Aye. I ask again, children, what is so dire that it requires you to beat my chamber door to dust?”

“Oh gods.” Harry wrapped his arms around his chest. “W-where’s Professor Snape? He isn’t in?”

“He would have answered the door himself if so.”

“Oh _shite_ ,” Ron breathed.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, little lion.”

Ron blinked. “You can take points?”

“It hardly matters at the moment,” Hermione said with a huff. “Professor Slytherin, can you warn the other portraits? Tell them Voldemort is in the castle. He’s possessed Professor Quirrell and he’s after the stone. _Hurry_ , please!”

Slytherin paled. “Ach, I _warned_ Severus something was amiss.”

Harry nodded. “Where is he, sir?”

The portrait gave him an assessing look. “You, I know. For you, little snake in lion’s clothes, I will speak. He set out to gather mooncaps and withermist, but it is not the season. I fear there is some charm to blame.”

“Confunded,” Hermione gasped. “Oh no.”

Harry winced. “Oh gods, I hope he’s okay.”

“He’s strong enough to break through it the moment he realises the ingredients aren’t ready,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “But as we can’t contact him, the real question is what in Merlin’s name do we do now?”

Ron looked to the portrait. “I don’t suppose you can warn him, sir?”

Slytherin’s eyebrow shot up. “Powerful though I may be, little lion, I am still only paint and magic now.”

“That’s a no,” Harry said with a grimace. “Now what?”

Hermione’s shoulders set with resolution. “Professor Slytherin, go. Please. Warn anyone you can.”

Slytherin nodded and dashed off. His portrait vanished from the door as soon as he was gone.

“That’s that,” said Ron. “But now what do we do?”

“There’s nothing else for it,” said Hermione with a grim look. “All the professors we need are gone or aren’t listening. We’ll have to go ourselves.”

Harry sighed and followed them down the stairs. “Snape is going to kill me for this when he gets back, you know.”

It was true enough, if not for the reasons his friends thought.

“Yeah, well, Snape might be in on it, whatever that Slytherin person said. He’s evil enough.”

Harry barely resisted shooting Ron a hateful look, instead settling for grinding his teeth and clenching his fists under his robe. The sooner Voldemort vanished for good, the better.

“Come on, you two,” Hermione urged. “We’d better hurry.”

Harry shoved his anger aside and raced to the forbidden corridor.

 

* * *

 

Harry woke in the hospital wing again, a dark head next to his shoulder and silky black hair spilling all over his arm and chest. Soft feathers covered his belly and stretched over him, warm and protective, and sharp-tipped fingers tangled with his own.

“Severus,” Harry whispered.

The professor’s breathing was slow and soft, indicative of sleep, though quiet sobs broke through every now and then.

Gods. Even in his sleep, Severus was terrified for him.

Harry lifted his free arm to stroke Severus’ hair, though it was heavy as lead. “I’m so sorry. We tried to get help first, we really did.”

Severus’ breath hitched and a whimper escaped him, but he didn’t wake.

“How long have you been at my side? Gods, you poor man.” Harry didn’t dare call him what he truly was, not knowing if Severus was invisible or the room warded.

Something made a tinny whistling sound beside him and startled Harry. He turned and glared at a pile of cards, flowers, and sweets from his ‘admirers.’ Admirers—paugh. None of them had any idea who Harry even was. The only person who had ever stuck by Harry’s side through everything was sleeping beside him, so exhausted from his vigil and so distraught from Harry’s pain, he had fallen asleep in tears atop Harry’s shoulder.

That was true admiration. Harry touched his fingers to his lips and transferred the air kiss to Severus’ furry ear.

“Thank you for always staying by me.”

Severus’ ear twitched, and he gave a stuttered gasp. The yokai’s head whipped up and startled dark eyes focused on Harry, red-rimmed and shadowed with lack of sleep. A three-day or so beard graced his jaw. Harry’s fingers itched to touch it, but he kept his hands to himself.

“Harry!” Severus gave a pained cry and caught him into his arms. “I have never been so terrified for you in my life, not since the day I thought you had all been killed.”

Hot tears dripped onto Harry’s hair and face, and guilt turned his stomach to lead.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Harry whispered. “So sorry.”

“Ssh. It is not your fault, child. Minerva and Salazar told me what happened. I know you tried to seek help and found none. I am proud of you for your bravery, but Merlin, you terrified me.”

“Are you okay, sir? Slytherin said he thought you’d been hexed.”

“Yes, Quirrell managed to sneak a Confundus charm onto me while I was eating dinner, but I threw it off five metres into the forest and ran back to the castle. I arrived in the final chamber half a moment after you, but I could not reach you until the shade left Quirrell.”

“Oh gods. You saw?”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair and blinked tears down his face. “I have never been so afraid.”

“Sir, I’m so sorry. We tried so hard….”

“I know, little one. All is well now.”

“What about Quirrell? Did they arrest him?”

Severus closed his eyes. “Child… he… he is dead. The possession—the dark lord is not kind to those he claims as his own. There was hardly enough left of his brain to support life when Riddle had finished with him, and so, he did not last long after the shade abandoned his body.”

“Shite,” Harry whispered, grief and guilt sharp as a blade in his chest. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Ssh. You did nothing wrong. The dark lord killed Quirrell, not you.”

It didn’t ease the grief in Harry’s chest, but given the situation, he thought it best not to comment on it. Especially since he didn’t understand it himself. He had hated Quirrell, hadn’t he? Why feel so terrible over his demise when the bastard had been out to kill Harry all along?

Still, he couldn’t quell the pain, so he tried not to think of it. It would fade soon.

Wouldn’t it?

“H-how long have I been unconscious, sir?”

Severus shuddered and took Harry’s hand again. His fingers trembled against Harry’s skin. “Over a week, child. I had begun to fear you would never wake again.”

Harry made a strangled sound of shock. “A _week_? Sweet Merlin. Have you been here the entire time?”

“As much as I could do, yes. I could not afford to skip my classes, and I had no choice but to mark the students’ work as usual and stay away when your friends were present, but every night I have slept here, beside you.”

Harry kissed his scruffy cheek. “Thank you. Are the others okay? Ron?”

“He recovered nearly an hour after being admitted. His injuries were far less damaging. You… were not _physically_ harmed, but something of the Dark Lord’s shade… we do not know for certain what happened, but it hurt your core and soul. Badly. That is why it took you so long to heal. There is no treatment for such wounds—one must recover naturally. I had begun to fear you were lost to me forever.”

More tears dripped down Severus’ face, and Harry brushed them away. “Ssh. I’m never going to leave you alone, okay? It’s all right.”

Severus’ voice was small and afraid. “You will not leave me?”

“No, sir,” Harry whispered. “I think you’ve been left alone far too much as is. I’ll be your friend for always.”

Severus’ lips curled in a tentative smile, though he still wept. “Always it is.”


	6. Home is Where the Tengu Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _AN: So this is probably one of my favorite chapters in the story, despite the fact that it's relatively short. Sev and Harry are just so cute. <3 Also, about the chess game, Acid helped me find a strategy to defeat the white-sided player in two turns if they don't know better. I don't actually know how to play myself, so if I got the theory here wrong, that's all on me. I barely know what the pieces are. XD_

#  ** Chapter 6 **

##  _Home is Where the Tengu Is_

### 31 July, 1993

The summer had begun, and Harry was back at the Dursleys’. But this time, he knew the identity of the Tengu guarding his roof, and every night, Severus apparated into Harry’s room to ask after his day and make sure he was all right.

He was. Now that his relatives believed Harry could curse them if they angered him enough, they avoided him wherever possible. Which was just fine with Harry, thank you very much. In fact, he had garnered immense entertainment from pretending to use magic against Dudley every time the prat threatened him. And the occasional _actual_ spell from Severus certainly added to the effect.

At least it had until Dobby decided to intervene.

Harry stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring at the Ministry notice in his hand. His uncle had locked him in the room, and Harry had his doubts the man would ever let him out if he hadn’t had a certain Tengu on his side. Thank the gods Severus would be there soon, or else Harry had no idea what would happen to him.

With a quiet pop, Severus appeared by the window, his eyes dark with worry. “Harry, what precisely _happened_ here earlier?”

So Harry told him. About the dinner party he wasn’t allowed to be a part of, about the house elf and the owl and the notice from the Ministry, even though he didn’t actually perform any underage magic.

“And the worst thing is, now the Dursleys know I’m not supposed to use magic outside of school. They’ve locked me in here and think I’ll get in trouble if I curse them for it.”

Severus scowled. “Did they now? They shall pay for _that_ shortly.”

Harry hesitated. “But won’t the Ministry be watching for other magic use here, sir? Will I get in trouble if you cast spells?”

Severus smirked. “If I were a human wizard? Absolutely. Since I am a yokai, they cannot track my demonic magic at all. It shows up on their sensors as atmospheric disturbances. And all the curses I cast are demonic magic. Besides, you need to be at Hogwarts to serve the thrice a week year-long detentions I assigned you for breaking into the forbidden corridor.”

Harry chuckled softly. “If anyone knew I liked those detentions better than any part of the day….”

“Yes, let us _not_ tell anyone, please.”

“I know, sir. I’d never endanger you.”

Severus hugged Harry against his side, wrapping his wing around the boy too. “I trust you. And….” His cheeks coloured. “And I have a small gift for you. If I had known it was to be the only one you received, I would have—”

“You got me a birthday present?” Harry beamed. “I’ve never had one but Hedwig. Can I see?”

“ _May_ I, and yes, you may.” Severus tugged a small package from his pocket and laid it on Harry’s lap. “I… forgive me that it is not… I had to find something that the others would believe you bought for yourself.”

Harry found Severus’ nervousness adorable and gave him a warm smile. “I’m sure it’s fine, sir.” He tore open the silver and blue wrappings and grinned at the golden chain and lion pendant within.”

“How much did it hurt you to buy this?”

Severus gave him a mock-aggrieved sigh. “You have _no_ idea.”

Harry laughed and hugged him tight. “Thank you. I love it. Will you help me put it on? I’ve never worn jewellery before.”

“Well, this is hardly much as far as jewellery goes, but I will help.” Severus unfastened the chain and hooked it around Harry’s neck. The pendant hung just under the height of his collar. “The true gift is in its protective charms. It takes years to learn the skill of identifying various types of poisons or potions in your food and drink, but we may not have that kind of time before someone attempts to drop a love potion in your drink or ‘improve upon’ your dinner. That will keep you safe from most poisons and mind-altering substances, bar only the most lethal. No charm can protect you against those completely. However, even if someone _does_ slip a lethal potion into your food or drink, this will slow its progress enough to give you time to seek aid.”

“Really? That’s brilliant, Severus. Thank you. Did you make the charms?”

“Being part angel _is_ good for something.”

Harry scooted into the yokai’s soft feathers with a smile. “Good for keeping me warm, too.”

Severus chuckled and wrapped his wing around the boy’s shoulders. “Now that you have your gift, what plague shall I set upon your relatives this time?”

“Oh, I get to choose?” Harry hid his pendant under his shirt and considered his options. “Hmm. How about frogs or toads? Petunia _hates_ them.”

Severus smirked devilishly. “Prepare to cover your ears in three… two… _Rubatarum Maxima_!” Green light shot out of his palm, detoured under the door, and headed towards the master bedroom across the hall.

Harry and Severus pressed their hands over their ears as a chorus of croaks blasted through the house. A shrill screech sounded next, drowning out even the deluge of toads.

“ _VERNON_!”

Harry snickered into Severus’ shoulder. “Wicked.”

“We shall see how long your uncle’s edict lasts _this_ time.”

“Are you still invisible?”

Severus nodded. “I never remove the cloak while I am here. There is no point, since you are always able to see me whether I am invisible or not.”

“I’m glad I gave you it back. It’s more reliable than a spell.”

“Except on a windy day,” Severus muttered.

“Yeah. It sure came in handy when I needed to sneak down to your quarters though.”

“I will return it once the summer is over.”

“Thank you, sir. If you ever need it during term, just as—”

A deep voice boomed, “ _BOY!_ ”

Severus and Harry went quiet. Vernon slammed the door open, revealing a huffing, puffing, slime-covered minotaur of a man in spattered pyjamas.

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” Vernon said with a manic gleam in his eye. “You’ll be cast out, you hear? And don’t think _we’ll_ put you up. You’ll be put out on the streets, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

A flick of Severus’ wrist dropped a particularly giant toad on the man’s head. While Vernon sputtered and fought to extricate himself from the creature's slimy legs, Harry gave him an innocent look.

“But it’s not me. I can’t do magic without a wand yet, Uncle Vernon. I’m only just out of my first year of Hogwarts.”

“BOY! Get rid of this—urgh—this instant!”

“I told you, I didn’t _do_ magic. I don’t think my guardian angel liked your little plot to lock me in here all summer, though. Maybe you should reconsider?”

Whatever Vernon responded with, it wasn’t in English. The man stormed out, tossed the unfortunate toad somewhere, and slammed the door.

Severus and Harry chuckled.

“He’ll break by Wednesday,” Harry said with a snort. “In the meantime, are you going to keep me company?”

“Of course.” Severus conjured a chess board and sat behind the black pieces. “You have the first move.”

“ _Chess_? You’ll beat me in three turns!”

“Then you shall simply have to watch and learn, hmm?”

Harry grinned. “Ron won’t know what hit him.”

“Precisely. Now, I advise you to begin by moving this pawn here, to F4.”

Harry sat down and gave the pawn a suspicious look. “How do I know you’re not teaching me to lose even more spectacularly than usual?”

Severus snorted. “Then you will know what not to do, won’t you?”

“Fair enough.” Harry moved his pawn as directed. “You know, if my uncle comes in and sees me playing chess with an invisible person, he’s going to have a coronary.”

Severus’ eyes sparkled with mirth. “Is this supposed to deter me? Your move, Harry. I think placing your next pawn here, on G4, would be wise. Perhaps you may last five turns instead of three.”

Harry laughed and obeyed.

“Checkmate.”

“ _Professor_!”

Severus laughed and reset the board.

 

* * *

 

Dursley hadn’t relented by morning, so Severus conjured a loo off of Harry’s bedroom and guarded the door while Harry showered and freshened up. Severus borrowed it as soon as Harry finished, then apparated to Hogsmeade and returned with breakfast and butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks.

“Oh Merlin! This looks brilliant. Thank you, sir.”

Severus ruffled Harry’s hair and transformed his desk into a table and chairs. “Eat, child, and we shall work on your studies when you have finished.”

Harry obeyed, though distractedly. “Sir,” he said when he had nearly finished, “what do you think Dobby was talking about? What plot against me?”

“Merlin, Harry, I do not know. It could be anything. All I can tell you is that I am… well, I am not positive, but I believe I _may_ know who Dobby’s master is. And if I do, then I can promise you that elf would be in a position to know if there _was_ a dark plot. However, that is all I can say definitively at this time.”

“Whose elf is he?”

“I am not certain, as I have said. I will tell you when I am.”

Harry put his breakfast away when he had finished and listened against the keyhole. “Your silencing charms are good, sir. I can’t hear anything even when I try.”

Severus gave him a searching look. “You cannot? I had thought that you might be able to, as you are always able to see and hear me.”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe it’s just because I like you.”

Severus gave him a hesitant smile. “I am glad of it. Now, I assume you wanted to know what your relatives are up to?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come.” He opened his arms and knelt to Harry’s height. “Look into my eyes, little one. I will use a scrying spell and project it to you, but you mustn’t try to keep me out of your mind.”

Harry stood near Severus, though he frowned in uncertainty. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all, child, so long as you do not fight me. If you do, I fear we shall both have a bit of a headache.”

Harry hesitated. “J-just a headache, sir?”

Severus gently held Harry’s face, keeping his claws well away. “I would never harm you, child.”

Harry’s cheeks went pink and a shy smile crossed his face. “O-okay. I trust you, sir.”

Severus closed his eyes, feeling the need to offer this young man a gift he hadn’t given in twenty years: the power of his name. “Severus,” he murmured. “Call me Severus when we are alone or with the headmaster.”

“But you’re my teacher!”

Severus chuckled softly. “If it makes you feel better, you may refer to me by my title when we are in lessons as well. But you are also my… my friend, Harry, though you are so much younger, and I would like you to use my name.”

“Really?”

“Yes. First names give bonds power. And I would like our friendship to be strong.”

Harry hugged Severus tight and nuzzled his face into his hair. A soft kiss fell on Severus’ ear, and Severus twitched it back, a bit uncomfortable with the sensation.

“Okay, S-Severus.” Harry pulled back and gave him a shy smile. “I already did call you that one time.”

Severus gave him a mock-stern look. “Did you now? Without my permission? Hmm. When did this _terrible_ crime take place?”

Harry covered a giggle, but his mirth faded fast. “After… after Quirrell last year. When I woke up and you were asleep beside me, still crying. I’m sorry, sir—Severus. I really didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Severus tugged Harry back into his arms and hugged him tight. When he pulled back, his eyes were suspiciously wet. He blinked hard and dragged his tail across them—a more effective way to dry his face than using his hands.

Harry caught said appendage and petted it. “I’ve always loved your tail, you know. It’s so pretty and soft.”

Severus gave a choked laugh. “Yes, I know. You were fascinated with it, and my ears, when you were a baby.”

Harry grinned and petted Severus’ ears. “They _are_ cute.”

Severus felt his face flushing and ducked away. “Ah… thank you? I think?”

Harry chuckled and released him. “Cute is a good thing, Severus. But let’s see what they’re up to now, okay?”

Severus nodded and lifted his head once more. “Look into my eyes, Harry. Don’t look away.” Harry fixed his gaze on Severus’, and Severus whispered, “ _Conspectus Spectaculum, Legilimens Inverto_.”

Severus’ vision expanded and altered to focus on the area outside the door. He guided his spell throughout the house, searching for Harry’s relatives, and finding them in the kitchen. Vernon was booming into the phone, Petunia sat at the table and twisted her hands in her lap, a plate of bangers and eggs sitting untouched before her, and Dudley sat by his mother, shovelling eggs and bangers down his gullet. As Severus watched, the boy stole all the sausages from his mother’s plate and stuffed them into his mouth in one bite. He was eying his father’s plate before he had even swallowed.

“Pig,” Harry muttered. Severus couldn’t agree more.

Vernon shouted, “What do you _mean_ , you can’t come out on a Sunday? Did you not just hear me tell you my entire master bedroom is swimming in _frogs_?” A pause ensued. “ _Yes_ , I meant frogs. No, it’s not a joke! Why would I—” He pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. “The bloody bint hung up on me. Bloody buggering fu—”

Petunia covered her mouth and gasped, “ _Vernon_!”

Vernon slammed the phone down so hard, the receiver snapped in two and clattered on the floor. They didn’t need the scrying spell to hear the verbal tirade that followed as a result.

Severus cancelled the spell with a soft laugh and pulled back from Harry’s mind. “Well, that was certainly entertaining, hmm?”

“Totally worth it,” Harry said with a grin.

A wicked grin crossed Severus’ face. “Well, Harry. You’ve now been a prisoner for twelve hours. I believe it is time to, as they say, up the ante.”

Harry smirked. “Want to do… grasshoppers this time? Right on Dudley’s breakfast?”

Severus snickered. “You, my friend, should have been a Slytherin. Three… two… _Locustae Herba Maxima_!”

Severus let down the silencing spell long enough to hear Petunia screech, even louder than the twin roars of a plague of toads and grasshoppers.

“ _VERNON_!”

Both wizards dissolved into hysterical laughter.

 

* * *

 

Vernon had relented long before Wednesday. The final plague of slugs in the living room, plus Dudley’s incessant whinging about _starving_ and _hungry_ and _make the bugs go away, Dad_ drove him over the edge. The next morning, he let Harry out, eyes bulging with rage, and ordered him to clean up the mess by hand.

“Oh. Might I go and play when I’m finished?”

Vernon raged, “You won’t set a toe outside this house until it’s spotless, you hear?”

Behind Harry, Severus waved his wand, and the plagues vanished, leaving the house squeaky clean.

“Well, that’s done then,” Harry said with a grin. “Bye!”

They raced past his spluttering uncle with matching grins, not stopping until they reached the park, where they collapsed into fits of laughter.

“D-did you see his _face_?” Harry choked out, tears running down his cheeks with his mirth. “I thought his eyes would pop out of his skull!”

“Not that it would detract much from his appearance if they did,” Severus muttered through snorts and chuckles.

Harry turned and buried a squeal of laughter in Severus’ shoulder. “Merlin, thank you for this memory, Severus. Best punishment ever.”

Severus laughed softly and wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I am glad you did not need to suffer through alone.”

“Yeah.” Harry’s mirth vanished. He leaned up and gave Severus a soft smile. “And you don’t have to either, you know? Whenever it gets too hard, you can come to me, okay? You’re not alone anymore.”

Severus’ breath lodged in his throat and his heart swelled. He hugged Harry tightly against his side and wrapped him in his wings, making sure they were both hidden under his spells and silenced from the passers-by.

“I… I have been alone so long, Harry, that I am not sure I know how not to be.”

“Well, I’ll just teach you then.” Harry laid his head on Severus’ shoulder and sighed, the sound rich with contentment. “Like this. We just share what moments we can, and be happy with each other. Doesn’t that sound nice after so many years alone, for both of us?”

Severus brushed a kiss atop Harry’s hair and hugged him tight. “Yes, child. It sounds lovely.”

As they watched clouds go by and picked out shapes, years of darkness and coldness began to melt from Severus’ soul. Harry’s warmth had brought him into the sun, at last.

“There,” Severus murmured, pointing to a long cloud with a blob at one end. “It’s your Aunt Petunia’s neck.”

Harry chortled helplessly, and Severus thought he had never been so happy.

 

* * *

 

Harry’s cart bounced off the wall of Platform 9 ¾ and sent him, and all his belongings, flying. He landed with an _oof_ atop Ron and grimaced as Hedwig’s cage soared into his open arms.

“Gotcha,” he gasped out, winded, and set the squawking bird down beside him.

Ron grumbled, “Gerroff me, will ya?”

Harry scrambled off his friend and helped him to his feet, blushing at the mess that lay all around the platform and the stares of the bystanders. “S-sorry, sorry,” Harry called. “Lost control of the trolley!”

The crowd muttered and whispered among themselves, but they moved on, and Harry bustled about to put his belongings away before the nearby Muggles could see more than they ought. Ron helped, and in a few minutes, they had Harry’s trunk packed once more and Hedwig back to her usual placid self.

Harry pushed at the wall and gave a whimper of dismay when it wouldn’t give. “Now what?”

“Um… call for my parents?”

Harry shot him a wry look. “How? We can’t get through the barrier.”

Ron grimaced. “Reckon they can’t get through to us either?”

“Clearly not, or your mum would’ve been here fussing over us already.”

“Oh. But they could apparate…?”

“In the middle of King’s Cross Station?”

“Right. Muggles.” Ron sighed and kicked the wall, cursing when it didn’t give. “Bloody hell. Why won’t the barrier let us through, mate? It’s never blocked us before.”

“I dunno. It’s weird.” Harry slumped onto the bench beside the platform and stared forlornly at his owl. “Guess I’m not going back to Hogwarts after all.”

“What? Mate, that’s madness.”

Harry just gave a bitter snort. “My uncle will be pleased.” Or maybe not, considering all the plagues Severus had set upon him that summer.

“Oi, don’t talk like that. We’ll get back. We just have to think… floo powder?”

“Where?”

“Right.” Ron rubbed his chin. “We could call a… what do you call it, a texi?”

“A _taxi_ , and how would a Muggle vehicle make it to Hogwarts?”

“Right, anti-Muggle charms.” Ron frowned, then sat up with a gasp. “But my dad’s auto could make it, couldn’t it?”

Harry gave him an annoyed look. “Sure, let’s just apparate across the barrier and ask him to drive us. Oh, wait….”

“Shut it, prat,” said Ron with a snicker. “I meant _we_ could drive it.”

“Er….” Harry gave him a nervous look. “Do you know _how_ to drive?”

“Yeah! Well, I mean, you just put your wand in the ignition and steer, right? How hard could it be?”

Harry gulped. “I… don’t think this is such a great idea, Ron. So many things could go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“We could crash and be killed, crash and kill someone else, be caught and be expelled, get your dad in trouble with the Ministry….”

Ron pouted. “Well, do you have any better ideas?”

Harry sighed and looked to the sky, then startled when he saw Severus perched on the roof above the station, his expression worried and his wings fluttering in the breeze. The yokai nocked his head towards his feathers, then towards Harry’s left.

“Harry, mate?” Ron followed his gaze and frowned. “What are you looking at?”

“Oh. Just a bird.” Harry gasped. “A _bird_! Sweet Merlin, we’re bloody idiots.” He popped open his trunk and fished out a scrap of parchment and a biro.

 

> _Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,_
> 
> _We’re stuck behind the barrier to the platform and can’t get through. We don’t know what happened. We’re waiting at the station. Can you get us to school another way? Maybe with the car or by the floo?_
> 
> _Thanks,_
> 
> _Ron and Harry_

 

Harry fastened the note to Hedwig’s leg. “Take that to Missus Weasley, but don’t let anyone on this side see you with it.”

Hedwig crunched the paper in her talons so no one would see and shot into the sky. The Muggles gave her bemused looks, wondering why a snowy owl was hanging about the platform in broad daylight, but at least Harry and Ron hadn’t been caught flying a car.

“Now, we sit back and wait,” said Harry with a smile at his friend.

Ron sighed and leaned back on the bench. “Sure, if you want to be _boring_.”

“Better boring than dead.” He gave Ron a look of mock horror. “Or worse, _expelled_.”

Ron choked with laughter. “Bloody hell, mate. Don’t scare me like that. One Hermione in the group is enough to deal with, thank you very much!”

Harry laughed and settled back on the bench. Above the platform, Severus met Harry’s eyes and gave him a relieved smile.


	7. Harry Potter and the Great Bloody Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's second year, this time with Severus at his side.

#  **Chapter 7**

##  _Harry Potter and the Great Bloody Snake_

### 15 September, 1993

As much as it relieved Severus that their new DADA instructor did _not_ wear turbans and, thus, could not possibly be harbouring the spirit of a dead Dark Lord on the back of his skull, Lockhart’s irrepressible stupidity and enormous ego were almost worse. If Albus didn’t change his usual staff table seat soon, Severus would not be responsible for his actions. Merlin, the buffoon surely couldn’t have mistaken the sound of Severus’ grinding teeth and clenching claws for _applause_ , could he? Surely even his imbecility and self-aggrandising had its limits.

Before a week of the new term had passed, Severus had revised his opinion. There were, apparently, humans for which said limits did not exist.

“And then,” Lockhart babbled on to a chorus of groans, “I swept in, with nothing but my wand and a string of garlic, and I said, ‘ _begone_ , foul beast!’”

His retelling, of course, included a shout for dramatic effect. And of course, he aimed it directly in Severus’ sensitive ears. Severus flattened them against his head and muttered a mantra under his breath: _‘Must not murder the defence instructor at the dinner table.’_

“And then….” Lockhart lifted his fork, sending a spatter of beef gravy all over Severus’ hair. “I raised my wand, and—” He jerked up a hand full of grape tomatoes on Filius’ side and dropped several on the half-goblin’s head. “Oh, sorry, old boy. As I was saying, I raised my wand, and I lifted my garlic, and the Villa-Vim Vampire just… _disintegrated_.” He smacked his hands together and swung them about, spattering everyone nearby with tomato insides.

Severus conjured a shield and sent the mess flying back onto the prat’s hair without so much as looking in his direction.

“My _coiffure_!” Lockhart’s girlish squeal caused the entire staff table—and many of the students, Harry especially—to snicker and snort.

Lockhart jerked to his feet and tried to hide the dripping pinkish mess behind his hands. “E-excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. It seems I must attend to an emergency, um… urgently. Enjoy your meal!”

The idiot raced off, and Severus muttered, “I most assuredly will, now that you are not here to ruin it.”

Beside him, Minerva choked on her wine.

“Lovely charms work, Severus,” said Filius with a wry grin. “I don’t suppose you might be prevailed upon to conjure that shield around the lot of us next time, hmm?”

Severus smirked. “Normally I would say to each his own, but the thought of seeing Lockhart spattered with the results of his entire dramatic retelling is too tempting to pass by.”

Filius chuckled and wiped tomato seeds from his head. “Indeed. Merlin, what _was_ Albus thinking?”

Severus shot the old man a dark look. “I should rather like the answer to that myself.”

Albus merely shrugged and flicked a tomato chunk off his goblet before he took a sip. “At least he is not a Dark Lord in disguise this time.”

“Dark Lord? I should say not. The man couldn’t find his arse in the dark if you put his hands in his trousers!”

“ _Severus_ ,” said Minerva, though her lips twitched with mirth. “No cursing in front of the students, if you please.”

“The man would drive a saint to cursing, Minerva, and I am certainly no saint.”

She covered a laugh in her napkin. “Do stop, Severus. You will ruin my reputation before long.”

Severus smirked and returned to his tomato-guts-free meal.

 

* * *

 

As Severus graded abysmal third-year essays on the properties of wolfsbane, he remembered Harry’s complaint from earlier in the afternoon with a laugh. _“Lockhart, Severus? Of all the people he might have forced me to take detention from, it had to be Lockhart?”_

Severus had reassured him that Albus had thought Severus was being too liberal with his detentions and the others would likely comment on it soon, but Harry hadn’t been any happier about the prospect of spending several hours in the great buffoon’s company.

Of course, Severus empathised, but there was little he could do. He had sent Harry off with a hug and a promise that they would make up for it in Saturday night’s detention. The boy had left with a smile, and Severus had expected to see him in the morning with a grin on his face.

The thought that Harry would return directly after his detention, hidden under his cloak and shaking from head-to-toe, hadn’t factored into Severus’ plans at all.

“Harry?” Severus guided the boy into his office and sat him on the chair before his desk. “Child, what is it? What in Merlin’s name has you so terrified?”

“S-Severus, do you remember I told you over the summer that I heard whispers in the back of Quirrell’s turban? _Scary_ whispers?”

Severus nodded. “Why?”

“I-I heard them again, Severus. The whispers. _‘Kill, kill….’_ But there was no one there but Lockhart. I… I’m scared. Is Lockhart evil too?”

“Sweet Merlin.” Severus tugged the boy into his arms. “Ssh. Child, all will be well. Lockhart is no more capable of hiding a Dark Lord in his robes than Ronald Weasley is of growing wings and flying away.”

Harry chuckled into Severus’ shoulder. “He might be an Animagus one day, you know.”

“And the day Ronald Weasley becomes a flight-worthy Animagus, one of the rarest and most difficult types to achieve, I will gladly eat my words.”

Harry buried a giggle in Severus’ hair. “Y-yeah.” He hugged his friend tight. “Thank you, Severus. You really think it’s going to be okay?”

“Of course, Harry. Perhaps that ignoramus simply bored you into bad dreams.”

Harry burst into laughter against Severus’ shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, he could do at that.” He pulled back and wiped his face. “Thanks, Severus. I feel better now.”

“Good.” Severus smoothed the boy’s hair and straightened his robes. “Now, run along before you’re missed.”

Harry gave him a relieved smile and returned to his dorm, but Severus worried about the strange voices only Harry could hear long into the night.

 

* * *

 

Halloween was an unmitigated disaster, not least because attending a Deathday party was just as boring as it sounded. Of course, Harry would have rather had more boredom than the voices he heard after a half-hour or so pretending to enjoy himself and edging towards the exit.

_“Kill… kill….”_

Harry gasped and grabbed Ron and Hermione, dragging them out of the party. Whatever enemy had followed Harry to Hogwarts was there that moment, and they had to run.

The only problem was that the voices seemed to follow him. And before long, he found himself staring at a puddle of water with a dead tabby cat in the middle.

“What—oh gods, it’s Mrs. Norris,” Harry panted, struggling to ignore the pang of grief in his chest. “Filch will be—we’ve got to—”

But Hermione was already on her knees beside the cat. “She’s alive. Only petrified.”

“Um, guys?” Ron’s tremulous voice brought Harry out of his panic and caused Hermione to lift her head. “We’ve got bigger problems.” He pointed to the wall behind Mrs. Norris with a shaking hand.

Hermione stood, eyes wide, and read from the wall in hushed tones. “ _‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.’_ Is that… _b-blood_?”

All three students took a step back in horror.

“We’d better get out of here,” Hermione whispered. “Filch will be—”

“Well that’s just what I said earlier,” Harry snapped. “Come on!”

Before they could take two steps, a raspy voice stopped them in their tracks. “Well, well, what do we have here? Three little troublemakers, out and causing a ruckus.”

Filch had found them.

Harry’s hands clenched on his friends’ sleeves. “Oh no.”

 

* * *

 

Harry hadn’t been able to resist running down to Severus’ office after the discovery of Mrs. Norris’ petrified form, but Severus hadn’t had any answers, nor did he understand why Harry could hear voices no one else could. He had comforted his friend until Harry had calmed enough to sleep and sent him off to bed with a promise to look into it, but Harry had begun to doubt they would find anything.

What if the voice was in his own head? What if _he_ was the one killing roosters and writing messages and petrifying cats, and he just didn’t remember it? Though how he could have done when the very thought of animals murdered senselessly left him shaking with horror was a mystery for the ages.

Sleep was a long time coming.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Severus called his chamber guardian into his living room. “Salazar, we both know the stories surrounding your history are greatly conflated and mostly untrue; however, we have a problem, and I need you to talk to me. Please.”

Salazar raised an eyebrow. “ _Please_? Great Merlin, it _is_ serious then.” He settled into a desk in the background of his portrait. “Speak.”

“For the past two weeks, there have been… strange incidents occurring around the castle. Harry has heard voices only he can understand, much like last year. All of Hagrid’s roosters have been killed as of late, and two nights ago, the second shipment he ordered to replace the first were also killed. We do not know who or what is doing it or why. And just yesterday, Harry and his friends stumbled upon the caretaker’s cat, who had been petrified in a puddle of water.”

Salazar sighed. “You speak of the message on the wall. The other portraits have been driving me mad, interrogating me about it at all hours. The short answer is this, Severus: I _did_ build a hideaway, so to speak. I did _not_ keep a monster in it. If someone has placed a deadly beast within my Chambers, then it was not with my approval, nor do I know what manner of beast it might be.”

“But you do know where the entrance is?”

Salazar shrugged. “I know where it _was_. It used to open into my office, but after I left, the other three founders dismantled it, or so I have heard since. I am unsure where the entrance may be now, and even if I did know, it would do you little good. It can only be navigated by a Parselmouth.”

“Damn,” Severus said with a huff. “It’s never easy, is it?”

“For the heads of great houses, magical beings, warriors, professors, and spies? No, I’m afraid not, old friend.”

Severus nodded in thanks to the Naga and went to tell Albus what he knew. Not that it would do them much good.

 

* * *

 

By the time that infernal mad elf left the hospital wing, Severus had amended his earlier mantra to “ _Must not murder the defence professor or barmy, interfering elves_ ,” and muttered it under his breath as he slunk to Harry’s side, hidden under careful invisibility spells.

“I was wondering where you ran off to,” said a pale, trembling Harry, the ghost of a wry smile on his face. “Usually I wake up to you tending me, not a half-mad house elf.”

“ _Half_?” Severus grumbled and cast his wards to keep Poppy and any curious passers-by away. With a sigh, he took the cloth Dobby had been using from the bedside, cleaned it, and brushed the cool cloth against Harry’s sweat-soaked brow.

“Much better when it’s you,” Harry said weakly.

Severus traced his knuckles down Harry’s cheek. “If I do not kill one or both of those two incompetents before the year is through, it will be a miracle.”

Harry chuckled and grimaced at the pain. “At least Dobby means well. Lockhart is just being an idiot. If you must sacrifice one of them, start with Lockhart, hmm?”

“And spare us all the nightly torture of his dramatic storytelling and daily miseries of his ego and utter imbecility? I like the way you think.”

Harry stifled laughter for the sake of his injured arm, but couldn’t hold back a few muffled snorts. “Yeah, good idea.” He laced the fingers of his undamaged hand with Severus’. “Sev, do you have any idea who Dobby belongs to yet?”

Severus shook his head and sighed. “Between that moron Lockhart, the strange voices, and the instances of roosters being killed for no reason, I have not been able to escape Hogwarts. It is too dangerous to leave you alone at the moment.”

Harry gave him a wry smile. “If I promised to be a good boy and stay in my hospital bed all day, maybe catch up on some homework, would you have time to ask around?”

“ _Ask_? Merlin, I shan’t do anything so uncouth.”

Harry’s lips twitched. “What will you do, then?”

“Scale the kitchen wall and spy through the window until I spot the little bugger.”

Harry couldn’t stop the laughter this time and winced at a jolt of pain down his arm. “Oh, ow. Hurts.”

Severus stroked his hair back. “Forgive me. I should have been there.”

“You couldn’t be without blowing your cover. It’s all right. I’d rather endure a little pain and have you be safe than otherwise.”

Severus gave him a sad smile. “You are too brave for your own good.”

“So are you, Severus. So are you.”

 

* * *

 

Severus collapsed in his chair after the disastrous duelling club incident, shaking all over. Dear gods. Harry was a _Parselmouth_. He should have known. That time the glass disappeared at the zoo—Severus hadn’t heard him speak. Of course, he wouldn’t hear it, not in the serpent’s tongue, but gods. If he had realised Harry could speak to snakes, he never would have told Draco to conjure one in front of the school.

It was supposed to be an easy spell to conquer for Harry, as Harry _liked_ snakes. He hadn’t intended it to become so… convoluted.

With a sigh, Severus knelt before the fire and threw a pinch of floo powder into the flames. “Headmaster Dumbledore’s office, Hogwarts.” The fire turned green, and Severus stuck his head inside. “Albus? Are you here?”

“I assume you have come to discuss young Harry?” Albus appeared from his quarters and motioned Severus up. “Come. We shall have a spot of tea to soothe your nerves.”

Severus nodded and swept through. “A Parselmouth, Albus,” he breathed. “He’s not— _how_? He is as far from Slytherin as it is possible to be.”

Albus glanced to his portraits. “Hmm. I think Harry is rather similar to him, in truth. He even looks similar, but for the hair.” He shook his head and guided Severus to the chamber stairs. “But for now, it is not important. Come.”

Albus guided the shaking Tengu up to his sofa and sat him down. He handed Severus a cup of dosed tea and sat in front of him, taking a lemon drop for himself.

“I suppose this explains the voices Harry has been hearing, both under Quirrell’s turban and this year.”

Severus frowned. “It does?”

“Yes. Tom is also a Parselmouth, Severus. Have you forgotten, child?”

Severus shuddered and rubbed his arms. “Perhaps I was trying to forget. So this means that the voices Harry has been hearing are Parseltongue? But there is no possible way Riddle could have made his way into the school without my notice, and Salazar would not do this—I am sure of that.”

“No, Salazar would never act in a way that might harm our students, but perhaps Tom has found a way to cloak his presence from Tengu. Or, perhaps, it is not Riddle Harry is hearing, but a serpent.”

“What _kind_ of serpent? And why should it be slithering about wanting to kill things?”

“Such as chickens and tabby cats? Perhaps it is simply hungry.”

“But neither the roosters nor Mrs. Norris was eaten.”

Albus shook his head. “I do not know, Severus. I have not made a point of studying serpents and their behaviour. We shall have to look into it.”

Severus sighed. “Yes. In the meantime, how is Harry a Parselmouth at all?”

Albus sighed and leaned back in his chair. “That _is_ a question for the ages, isn’t it?”

“So you do not know either.”

“I… have a suspicion, but at the moment, it is little more than conjecture and supposition. Particularly if Harry _is_ of Slytherin’s line somehow. I will need to research before I can offer you any concrete information.”

“I will ask Salazar, though I think it unlikely that he will know without a doubt one way or the other.” Severus dropped his head into his hands. “Merlin, is it just me, or does this mess get more complicated every year?”

Albus chuckled sadly. “Winning a war is never easy, Severus. I am afraid we have a long way to go before we truly understand what we have gotten ourselves into.”

“Indeed.” Severus leaned back in his chair and hoped for the best. With the world falling into chaos at an alarming rate, it was all he could do.

 

* * *

 

Once again, Severus summoned the guardian of his chambers into his living room and sat before him, heart troubled and hands clenched in his robes. “Salazar, is it possible that Harry is your heir?”

Salazar cocked his head. “He does rather look like me, does he not? But no, I think it highly unlikely.”

“Because he is Gryffindor?”

Salazar narrowed his eyes. “Because he is _human_.”

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Is it impossible for Naga to birth human children then?”

“Of course not. If one mates with a human, their children have a one in three chance of being born as a pure human wizard or witch. But my mate was not human, nor was the mate of our only child. It is highly unlikely that any human offspring came from her mating, nor that of her son.”

“A thousand years have passed since the time of the founding. Do you not think humans might have mixed with your line since? I know the dark lord claims that his heritage is quite extensive.”

Salazar’s features shimmered and shifted to reveal a line of scales down his nose, slit pupils, a cobra-like hood stretching over his head in place of ears, and sharp fangs. “You know as well as I do that our kind does not function on the same timeline as humans. I did not meet my true mate until late in my lifespan, and neither did my daughter. My family tree is much shorter than history would claim.”

Severus frowned. “How is it that Tom Riddle is a Parselmouth, then? And Harry?”

“As for Tom, it is quite likely that another Naga ‘borrowed’ my heritage and history as a Parselmouth to hide from the Ministry. While I may have mated in my twilight years, it does not necessarily follow that they did, and it is quite possible that they took a human mate. No human without Naga ancestry are able to speak the snake tongue, so that is my only explanation for Riddle. But as to your little friend—Harry is a Parselmouth, too?”

“Yes. That is why I asked if he is your heir.”

Salazar rubbed his chin. “Interesting. It is possible he has Naga blood, but I have never sensed any supernatural heritage on him.”

“You are a bloody _painting_. Are you _able_ to sense that still?”

Salazar gave him an unamused look. “I sense yours.”

“I am a mature being, Salazar. Perhaps you cannot sense it in youth.”

“Not so. I have sensed more beings than yourself in the school, and they are not adults.”

Severus crossed his arms over his chest. “Then if he is not your heir and he has no Naga blood, how is it possible that he is a Parselmouth?”

Salazar shook his head and flicked his tongue in the air, pointed and long like a snake’s. “I am… unsure. Perhaps… well, in my time there was no possibility of gaining the ability to speak to my kin but for being born into the bloodline, but who is to say one has not been found since? Or he may have become a Parselmouth through some strange magical accident. I do not know, Severus, but I am positive he is not of my bloodline.”

Severus nodded and stood. “Thank you, Salazar. I will let Albus know.”

Salazar nodded, reassumed his human appearance, and left. Severus followed suit soon after.

 

* * *

 

Harry raced to Severus’ office, fingers clasped tightly around the hideous journal he had found in Myrtle’s loo that night. Gods, he’d been a fool to think he could _trust_ the journal, and even more of a fool to think that he would find anything true within its pages. Had he fancied himself a spy, like Severus? Gods, an utter idiot was more like it. He might have been killed.

Severus opened the door and ushered him in when he realised who it was, and Harry launched himself into the yokai’s waist. “I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry!”

Severus peeled the sobbing boy from his waist and gently guided him into a seat. “Harry, child, tell me what has happened.”

“I was an i-idiot,” Harry sobbed. “So stupid. Should have just brought it here, but I wanted to help, and-and—I’m s-sorry!”

Severus shushed him and brought the boy to rest against his side. “There now. I am here, little one.”

“You, you’re going to be so angry with me.”

Severus smoothed Harry’s hair and went to pluck the journal from his hands, but halted before he touched it. “Dear gods. What _is_ this, Harry? The aura of dark magic is so thick….”

“I… I know.” Harry laid the journal on the desk and sniffled. “I was so stupid, Severus. I found that tonight and tried to write in it, and _he_ wrote back.”

“Wrote _back_?” Severus shuddered. “Merlin. It is sentient.”

“I t-think so.”

“That is… not good. Who wrote to you?”

Harry swallowed hard and stared at Severus’ left arm. “H-he did.”

“Who?”

“ _Tom Riddle_!”

Severus froze. “Oh sweet Merlin. That is _Riddle’s_ journal?”

Harry whimpered and buried his head in his hands. “So sorry! I just wanted to help you, but I should’ve known better and, and… I’m so sorry.”

Severus caught Harry into his arms and held him tight, banishing the journal to his desk with a spell. Harry buried his face in Severus’ shoulder and cried, releasing all the misery and tension of the past few months into his friend’s arms.

“I j-just wanted to know who the heir was,” he whimpered. “Riddle said he knew, and I knew whatever he said would be a lie, but I thought if I followed him anyway, I might prove _he_ did it. But once he knew I didn’t believe the story he showed me, he….”

Severus’ arms tightened around him. “He what?”

“I… I don’t _know_. It was like he tried to pull at me, but with magic. It hurt. He pulled something—my scar hurt—and he said I was just like him and laughed! Then I woke up outside the journal and I was bleeding and… and… I’m so sorry!”

Severus tipped Harry’s chin back and brushed his hair from his face. “Oh, dear gods. I hadn’t seen when you came in.” He whispered a healing charm over Harry’s forehead, and the terrible pain eased. “There. You are safe now, little one, but I would prefer to take you to Madam Pomfrey just to make sure.”

“B-but, what will we tell her?”

“We will tell her I discovered you staggering about with a questionable book, possibly one from the Restricted Section, but when I went to assign you detention, I discovered you were injured and brought you to her for healing instead rather than be bothered with the task myself. Of course, I shall have to assign you several _odious_ detentions for being out of bounds.”

Harry gave him a hesitant smile. “That… that could work. And I’m really sorry.”

“I know. I am not angry. But promise me you will never do such a dangerous thing again. Please. Leave the spying to me, little one.”

Harry nodded and let Severus guide him to his feet. “I promise, sir.”

“Good boy. Now, let us make sure you are well. Come with me.”

Severus guided Harry to the hospital wing and stuck to the plan. It went off without a hitch, and until the yokai appeared some moments after Pomfrey had gone to bed, eyes wide and face white as a sheet, Harry had begun to think they would come out of this unscathed after all.

“Severus? Merlin, are you okay?”

“I… I do not know.”

He collapsed into the seat beside Harry’s bed, shaking all over, and Harry took his hand.

“Listen, Pomfrey said I’m okay, Sev. No lasting damage this time.”

Severus gave him a wan smile. “That is a relief, but I am afraid we are not out of the woods yet.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Harry, when I returned to the office, I had planned to take the journal to Albus.”

“Yeah? What’s the matter? Did the headmaster find out what was in it?”

Severus shook his head. “I never had the chance to bring it to him. When I returned to my office, it was in a shambles. Someone broke in while I was attending to you.”

Harry’s heart leapt into his throat. “A-and the journal?”

“Vanished without a trace.”

“Bloody hell.”

 

* * *

 

The attacks kept coming, and no one had any answers. Suspicion shifted to Harry and back each week, but Severus knew the boy could never harm his classmates in such a manner. Even if he had such evil in him, Harry didn’t know such complex magic. No, if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Ginny Weasley was responsible. An aura of evil hovered around the girl these days, never thick enough to mark her as truly malicious, but enough to arouse Severus’ suspicions. A first-year shouldn’t have such a fog of evil and darkness around her spirit, and especially not a _human_ first year.

But that, again, confused him. As with Harry, a first-year could not petrify her classmates or spell messages that didn’t fade onto the walls. She might have killed the roosters, perhaps, but why would she want to?

And then, there was the mysterious journal thief. Severus had no idea who might have been able to bypass his wards, but _someone_ had done, and now they had a sentient journal of the bloody Dark Lord hovering about the school somewhere. Salazar hadn’t been able to catch them as the thief had blinded his portrait as soon as it appeared. All he could say was that they smelled dark, dangerous, and terrified, which Severus had worked out for himself. Well, the terror surprised him, but perhaps whoever had broken in feared Severus learning their secrets.

If only Severus’ dark scent worked from a distance, he might be able to track it, but no. Unless he came close to the journal itself—close enough to touch—he would never find the blasted thing that way. Which left only his powers of observation, and those had, unfortunately, come up as empty as everything else these days.

Severus sighed and wrapped his Slytherin green scarf around his neck in preparation for the final match of the year. He would have rather stayed behind and continued his research on serpents, but he had found nothing promising yet. Salazar was aiding him as much as he could, but even Naga didn’t know of every breed of serpent on the planet, and the founder hadn’t heard of beings that liked tabby cats and roosters and petrified people. Nor had any of Severus’ books, apparently.

Merlin, he didn’t want to leave, but refusing to appear at a quidditch match would mark him for suspicion. Everyone in the school knew he enjoyed the sport and hadn’t missed a match since his own Hogwarts years.

Well, perhaps a spot of relaxation would jog something in his memory. One could hope, at least. And he did enjoy watching Harry play.

He settled into his usual seat in the staff box, wondering where Minerva and Albus were. The match was due to start in ten minutes.

“Everyone, quidditch has been cancelled,” Minerva’s voice suddenly called out over the pitch, amplified by a _Sonorous_. “There has been another attack. Another _triple_ attack. All students are to report to their dormitories immediately.”

Below, Severus caught sight of Minerva speaking to Ronald Weasley and Harry, caught the shock and horror in the boys’ posture, and alarm raced through him. Who had been attacked _this_ time?

He watched the boys head off after Minerva, then rushed to make sure his own students returned to their dorms.

 

* * *

 

The attack on Hermione had lifted suspicion from Harry’s shoulders, but he couldn’t relax with Dumbledore gone, Severus panicking without his protection, a mysterious serpent attacking people, and a journal of Tom Riddle hiding somewhere about the school.

Merlin, Harry knew he had seen that blasted journal somewhere prior to his second year of schooling, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember where. It was driving him spare.

And then there was the mystery of Dobby. Where had the little bugger come from? With so many attacks happening left and right and Dumbledore gone, Severus couldn’t leave the school. He had no idea what plot the elf had been so afraid of, unless, of course, it was the Chamber being opened. But then, Harry was a Parselmouth. If the monster in the Chamber _was_ a serpent, like Hermione thought, then Harry would be able to hear it coming and avoid trouble. Of course, Dobby couldn’t have been expected to know that.

Maybe that was why the little elf hadn’t been making trouble for Harry lately. Everyone and their mother had heard of the snake-speaking incident in duelling club now, no thanks to the Hogwarts rumour mill, so no doubt Dobby had heard by now, too.

Either way, Harry didn’t miss his ‘rescues,’ if he did worry about the little creature and why he always looked so beaten-down.

With a shake of his head, Harry shoved his worries out of his mind and made his way towards Severus’ office for his detention. Ron had come with him—in solidarity, he had said, but Harry suspected the redhead just didn’t want to leave him alone. Harry hoped Severus had the sense to look as forbidding as he always did when he answered the door as he walked past the entrance hall on his way to the dungeons.

“H-H-Harry!”

He turned at Ron’s gibbering, frowning at his white-faced, wide-eyed friend. “Ron? What’s the matter?”

He jabbed a shaking finger towards the window and made a sound like a dying animal. Harry followed the direction of his hand and gasped. A line of spiders crawled from a dripping pipe, across the floor, and out of a crack in a nearby window.

“Spiders,” Harry breathed.

_‘Follow the spiders….’_

He looked at his friend and shook his head. Ron would never be able to follow them. And just in case the spiders led Harry to another Norberta—or something worse—he reckoned he had best get Severus involved in this instead.

“Yikes!” Harry guided his friend over and away from the line of arachnids. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”

Ron nodded and pressed close to Harry, shaking hard. “B-b-but, Hagrid said to follow the spiders.”

“Ron, Hagrid has strange ideas about what’s safe and friendly, and you’re arachnophobic. I’ll tell Professor Snape about it, and he’ll tell Professor McGonagall. The teachers will fix it.”

“Snape? Why would Snape do anything to help Hagrid?”

“Because he’s a _teacher_ , Ron. His personal biases against Gryffindors have nothing to do with his morality as a human being.”

Ron gave him a blank look. “Mate, you sound like Hermione.”

Harry gave a pained laugh. “I just mean he’s not going to let Hagrid suffer just because he hates me. He’s still human, Ron.”

“I have no idea how you can think that given how he treats you, Harry, but if you’re sure, then I trust you.”

Harry gave him a wan smile and wished he could tell Ron the truth. At least Ron, and at least Hermione. But he couldn’t risk Severus’ life. Not even for his friends.

“Thanks. We’d better hurry though. The later we are, the harder it will be to convince Snape to listen before he launches into a tirade.”

“Right.” With a shudder, Ron led Harry from the Entrance Hall corridor at a walk so fast, Harry had to run to keep up.

 

* * *

 

Against his better judgment, Severus had allowed Harry to come with him after the spiders. He might have left the boy behind, but Harry had been adamant that he wouldn’t leave Severus to face it alone, and for the fear Harry might try to follow without his knowledge and be hurt, Severus had decided he had best keep Harry where he could watch over him. And the boy _had_ made a good point that if they _did_ find something dangerous at the end of their journey, Severus might need backup to escape in one piece. Or at least someone capable of calling for help.

He had let Harry come, but only with a strict warning that _one_ trip away from Severus’ side would have them both back in the castle and the spiders left to wiser heads. Harry had promised, and Severus knew he would keep it, so, off to the forest they went. Even if Severus had questioned his sanity in allowing Harry to tag along more than once.

Harry took Severus’ hand as they passed the treeline. Severus’ heart warmed at the feel of his small palm held securely against his own, his fingers wrapped around his knuckles. Severus squeezed the boy’s palm for comfort and led him in silence, deeper and deeper into the forest. He had begun to consider turning around when the spiders turned into a clearing and scattered.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Severus cupped his hand over the boy’s mouth. He could _hear_ them. Legs scurrying, jaws clicking, webs spinning.

No small spider could make sounds like _that_.

“Acromantula,” he whispered. “Dear gods, Hagrid sent you after the _Acromantula_!”

“S-Severus?” Harry pressed in close to Severus’ side. “What’s an Acromantula?”

Severus wrapped his wings around the boy. “Stay close. I would rather not… reveal myself if we have a choice, but we may not do. Come, let us go before….”

A clicking, raspy voice called, “What are you doing in my lair, little human and… not human?”

Severus froze as if shot, then turned towards the voice, wand in hand and Harry tucked in at his side. A monstrous spider the size of a small house stood before him, eight blind eyes staring into space, giant jaw pincers dripping venom and saliva. Severus gulped and stepped back, but more clicking and dripping and rustling of legs warned him they were surrounded.

He would have no choice but to fly. He spread his wings, but Harry had moved away.

“Wait, Severus,” he whispered. “Please. We have to at least _try_.”

Severus shuddered. “Stay close.”

Harry nodded and took his hand. “Um, Mister… Acromantula, we came because Hagrid is in trouble and he told us to follow the spiders for help.”

“Hagrid sent you?”

The blind spider clicked his jaws, and the others moved back a few paces. Severus’ heart began to slow once more. Perhaps this _hadn’t_ been a suicide mission.

“What kind of trouble?”

Harry talked to the spider. He told him of Hagrid’s imprisonment, how the Ministry had blamed him for opening the Chamber, but that Harry and his friends knew Hagrid was innocent.

“But we don’t know what _is_ attacking students or who—”

“We do not speak of it! Our kind fear it above all other creatures!”

Harry and Severus pressed in close to each other at the sounds of frantic clicking and strange whistling cries all around.

“The creature was born in the castle,” Aragog hissed, “as I was not, but that is all I will tell you.”

“Oh. I-I’m s-sorry,” Harry stammered. “We didn’t know.”

“The true monster killed a girl in a loo, and I was blamed for her death. As a result, Hagrid was expelled, but I never harmed anyone within the castle walls.”

Severus bowed to the spider, though he kept it well within sight. “Thank you for your assistance, Aragog. We shall be on our way now, and leave you in peace.”

“Leave?” Aragog clicked his jaws and stepped closer. “I think not. I showed Hagrid and the residents of the castle mercy because he was kind to me, but I will not deny my children fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into my den. Goodbye, friends of Hagrid.”

“Shite!”

As the Acromantula rushed in, Severus grabbed Harry into his arms, spread his wings, and shot into the sky. Their feet barely cleared the clash of venomous jaws, and Severus whipped his tail out of reach just in time. Harry whimpered and buried his face in Severus’ shirt.

“S-sorry, so sorry!”

Severus held Harry tight and zipped away over the canopy, praying his invisibility charms held. He didn’t stop until they reached the edge of the forest, where he set a shaking Harry down and sat upon a fallen log.

“S-Sev’rus….”

Severus beckoned the boy, and Harry dashed into his arms, tears streaking down his ashen cheeks.

“I’m so sorry. Always leading us into danger. All I want to do is help.”

Severus wrapped Harry in his wings and set the shaking boy down upon his lap. “Ssh, we are safe now. I have you, little one.”

“Could’ve died, and we didn’t even _learn_ anything!”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair and rubbed his back, soothing him with snippets of Japanese lullabies, songs from his own youth barely recalled, until the boy’s tears slowed.

“There now.” Severus conjured a handkerchief and gently wiped Harry’s face, brushing away a few stray tears as they fell. “It’s all right now. We’re both safe. And we _did_ gain more information from tonight’s venture.”

Harry sniffled and scooted closer to the Tengu. “We did?”

“Yes. Do you remember what Aragog said about the monster?”

“T-that they don’t speak of it.”

“And yet, he _did_ speak. Do you remember what he said?”

Harry frowned in concentration and rubbed his face. “He said… the monster killed a girl in the loo, and that they’re afraid of it above all other creatures.”

“And what else, little one?”

“Um… oh! It was born in the castle!”

“Yes. So now we know the monster is a serpent born in Hogwarts which has access to a loo, is capable of petrifying and killing humans, and spiders fear it above all other creatures. That is far more than we knew before we left tonight.”

“But… it won’t help Hagrid. The Ministry won’t take the word of an Acromantula. They won’t even listen to _us_.”

“No, perhaps not, but we are closer to our goal than we were.”

“Y-yeah.” Harry sniffled and leaned on Severus’ shoulder. “Sev? What will I tell Ron about tonight?”

“Tell him I dragged you out to the forest as punishment for your detention and to prove your theories unfounded, but along the way, discovered that there truly _was_ something amiss. So we followed the spiders and ran straight into Aragog and his colony.”

“But how did we escape the Acromantula?”

“Hmm. Tell him I cursed the bloody hell out of them and we ran like mad.”

Harry chuckled. “Okay.” He curled into Severus’ arms and rested his head on the yokai’s shoulder. “I like it when you let your guard down around me. When you talk to me like a friend and not a teacher. I like it when you hold me when I’m scared, too.” He sniffled and buried his face in Severus’ chest. “Sorry I’m always breaking down.”

“Harry, child, you are _thirteen_. You are allowed to cry. Even adults cry sometimes. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You have seen me cry, have you not?”

Harry nodded and sighed into Severus’ robe. “Always over me. Always scared for me.”

“Because I care about you, little one, and the world has placed too much on your young shoulders, has hurt you too much, and still seeks to harm you even now.” Severus hugged the boy tight and brushed a kiss atop his head. “But I will protect you. And I will always be here to hold you when you are afraid. That is what friends do, is it not?”

Harry gave him a tearful smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Severus, for being my friend.”

“The pleasure is mine, Harry. Now, let’s get you home.”

“O-okay.”

 

* * *

 

_“Her skeleton shall lie in the Chamber forever.”_

The words ran through Harry’s head over and over. Ginny. Oh gods. Ginny had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. He sank down next to Ron and rubbed the horrified boy’s back, unsure of what else to do or how to help him. Particularly while they were hiding under Harry’s cloak and stuffed in the staff room supply cupboard, eavesdropping on the emergency staff meeting concerning Ginny’s disappearance. If only Harry could peek out without the others noticing, Severus would see him—cloak or no—and know he needed to talk. Then, just maybe, they could help the teachers find her before it was too late.

But the opportunity never arose, and by the time Harry believed it safe enough to step out of the cupboard, Severus had already gone, no doubt to find Harry and warn him. But Harry already knew, and he needed Severus’ help. Oh, this wasn’t good.

Ron staggered out of the cupboard and tugged on Harry’s sleeve, looking lost and afraid. “W-what do we do now?”

Harry huffed in uncertainty and worry. “I… we need to tell a teacher what we know. Maybe Snape or McGonagall. They’re the toughest here since Dumbledore’s gone.”

Ron shook his head. “Lockhart’s going after her, isn’t he? We should tell him.”

“ _Lockhart_? Ron, he’s a total fraud.”

“But if he’s going to try to find the Chamber….”

Harry bit his lip. If he suggested running to Snape again, he risked blowing his friend’s cover. On the other hand, Lockhart most likely had no intention at all of going to the Chamber—even the other teachers had known he wouldn’t do—and wasting time giving the idiot a rundown of the situation risked _Ginny’s_ life. Merlin, he had no idea what to do.

“Come on, Harry.” Ron dragged him towards the door. “We can’t just stay here. Let’s at least try to tell Lockhart, please?”

Harry sighed and prayed to all his lucky stars that Severus found them along the way. “Right. Hurry then.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as the staff meeting ended, Severus raced straight for his quarters. “Salazar! Please, hurry. I need your help.”

The founder dashed into the yokai’s living room frame, hand on his sword and his eyes hard with the strength of a warrior. “What is it, Severus?”

“The Chamber. I need your help to find it, or at least as close as we can come. Harry’s friend—the monster has taken her into the Chamber itself and is planning to kill her. Please. I know you do not know where the exact entrance is any longer, but if you can at least lead me to the general area, perhaps Harry and I can find it.”

Salazar nodded sharply. “Follow me through the frames. During my tenure, my office was on the second floor. It is likely to be somewhere near the same area, but I do not know for certain.”

“That is close enough. Thank you.”

“Come.”

Severus gathered his wits and trailed the founder’s figure from frame to frame, but stopped halfway through the second floor east corridor. Just ahead, he caught a glimpse of Harry and Ronald Weasley racing towards Myrtle’s loo, Lockhart in tow. Harry had a piece of parchment clutched in one hand and his wand pointed at Lockhart’s back, but he was trembling from head-to-toe and kept looking over his shoulder. Beside him, a fuming Weasley jabbed his wand into Lockhart’s shoulders and prodded him on. He witnessed Harry drop the parchment at the entrance to the loo, and then they were gone.

“Shite,” Severus breathed to the portrait. “What in Merlin’s name are they up to?”

Salazar nodded towards the loo. “I recommend you check that note he dropped to find out. It looked deliberate.”

“How? Lockhart and Weasley are with him.”

“You _are_ a wizard, are you not?”

Severus flushed. “Right.” He waited for an opportune moment—when Weasley had taken to shouting at Lockhart—and summoned the note. As he opened it, he could have sworn he heard hissing over the sound of the parchment rustling.

The note was a page torn from a library book, crumpled over and smudged a little with sweat. A handwritten note tucked neatly in the margins read _‘Pipes.’_ Pipes? Confused, Severus read the top of the entry and his heart sank into his feet.

A basilisk. Dear fucking gods, the monster was a _basilisk_!

And unless he had somehow lost his powers of deduction, Harry, Weasley, and Lockhart were heading straight for it.

“Mother of god,” he breathed, and raced after his hapless young friend, intending to pull him away from trouble with threats of detention—or murder—and drag Weasley with him, but when he arrived, he found nothing but an empty loo, a smirking ghost, and a giant hole in the wall near the sinks.

Salazar muttered from across the wall, “They moved the entrance to my Chambers into a _loo_? A girls’ loo at that?” He scoffed. “Godric must have done this. A lover scorned, as they say.”

Severus gaped at the portrait. So the rumours about Salazar and Gryffindor were true.

“Are you going after them or do you intend to stare at me all afternoon?”

Severus shook himself. “Merlin, where _is_ my brain?” He yanked out his wand, stuffed the parchment into his pocket, disillusioned and silenced himself, and leapt into the hole.

Gods, a basilisk. Of all the serpents to place in a ruddy _school_ ….

_‘If you survive this, Harry, I will bloody well kill you!’_

 

* * *

 

Severus watched, horrified, as Lockhart stood over a massive serpent skin and threatened the boys with a memory charm. With the lightning-quick reflexes of his true heritage, Severus cast an invisible, impenetrable shield over the children and smirked in satisfaction as the charm rebounded on the fraudulent bastard. Another quick spell shredded Weasley’s wand and made it appear to have backfired so that no one need know Severus had ever been there.

Or, that was the plan. But then, the backlash from Lockhart’s deflected spell brought the tunnel down around them. Severus shielded everyone and made a dash for Harry.

But before he had made it two paces, lightning crashed into the bottom of his tail and pinned him down, tearing at his spine, crushing the sensitive appendage below. _Fuck_! Severus bit back a yelp of pain by sheer force of will and struggled to breathe through the agony. By the time his head cleared enough to allow him to cast and free himself without causing a second catastrophe, Harry had already cleared a small hole in the rockslide and escaped into the tunnel.

_‘NO! You bloody idiot!’_

He made a few rocks fall near Lockhart, distracting both Weasley and the fraud, and dashed towards the hole. Before the other two could blink, Severus had shifted into his crow Animagus form and zipped through the hole into the tunnel beyond.

He passed the largest serpent skin he had ever seen and raced to the door, but he was too late. Harry had already gone inside, and the serpent door—the door that only a Parselmouth could operate—was closing behind his shaking form. Severus poured all his magic into his flight and zipped forwards at top speed, barely clearing the door as it snapped shut.

Harry walked forwards, wand out and eyes closed to avoid the basilisk’s lethal stare. Gods, a twelve-year-old boy who couldn’t use his sight and had no shield or weapon but his wand had no hope against such a lethal creature.

Thank Merlin, Severus wasn’t a human. The basilisk’s death stare wouldn’t kill him. He could guide Harry, blind the serpent, help his friend survive.

But at the moment, the snake was nowhere in sight. Only the girl, lying crumpled on the floor a few metres ahead, her form fuzzy and fading with every moment. The stench of dark magic over her made Severus’ stomach roil and bile creep up his throat, but he swallowed it down. Now was not the time to lose his head _or_ his lunch.

Severus flew around Ginevra’s body. The sound of his wings drew Harry’s attention, and the boy opened his eyes a crack, staring at the floor first, then trailing slowly upwards.

“Ginny!”

Only as Harry approached, too late, did either wizard notice the second form hidden in the shadows and the black diary lying open at Ginevra’s feet.

“Hello, Harry Potter. How… _wonderful_ to see you again.”

 

* * *

 

Severus woke to the smell of antiseptic and potions and the sound of someone in tears. He listened for a moment, attempting to discern his surroundings, when a throbbing pain in his left arm and a quiet whimper from the boy at his side brought it all back. The basilisk. Ginevra. Harry. The diary. A shade of Tom Riddle coming alive, drawing on Ginevra’s life force. _Harry_.

Severus dragged his uninjured arm upwards just enough to brush Harry’s wet cheek.

Harry jerked up and gasped. “ _Severus_!” He whimpered and crawled up the man’s form, laying his head on the yokai’s shoulder and snuggling in close, though he had to manoeuvre around Severus’ wings. “I’m so bloody sorry! I didn’t mean to—gods, forgive me!”

Severus turned his face into Harry’s hair and whispered, “Ssh. Little one, it is not your fault. You did everything you could to seek help, did you not? And in the end, you found yourself facing another impossible task alone.” He kissed Harry’s hair and held him as tightly as his weakened state would allow. “I was honoured to help you this time, child.”

“But… but you almost _died_ , and it was all my fault! If not for Fawkes….”

Severus brushed Harry’s tears away and lamented that he hadn’t the strength to wrap him in his wings this time. The boy found comfort within his feathers, but Severus could not turn to his side. Still, he managed to fold part of the left wing over Harry’s shoulder and soothe him that way.

“I did not die, though. I am here, child. We are safe. I was glad to take the venom for you.”

“Sev’rus… don’t.” Harry crawled onto the bed beside Severus and buried his head in the yokai’s neck. “Don’t _ever_ do that to me again.”

Severus folded him in his wing as best as he could and kissed the boy’s forehead. “Ssh. I will always fight for you, child.”

“I don’t want you to be hurt!”

“In the grand scheme of things, Harry, my life matters less than yours. If one of us is to die, it should be me.”

“No!” Harry leaned back and grabbed Severus’ face, holding him by his ears. “You aren’t to die on me, Sev’rus! _Ever_!”

“My life does not matter so much compared to yours, Harry. That is all I meant.”

“It matters to me, you dolt! I love you.”

Severus’ heart thumped. “You… what?”

“You’re my first friend, the one person who’s always been there for me for everything. I’d go mad without you.”

“Harry… I… I’m your professor, child, and you’re _thirteen_.”

Harry gasped, eyes wide and mouth gaping, and red slowly painted his cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean like _that_! Merlin! Even if you weren’t my teacher, I’m too young to… I don’t even know what that means yet, Severus. I’m still a kid.”

Severus gave a relieved laugh and caught Harry into his arms. “In that case, I believe I may safely say that I feel much the same. And, because I do love you, I will never allow you to perish on my watch. I have lost everyone I have ever loved, save only Albus and you. I cannot let either of you go.”

Harry sniffled and buried his face into Severus’ hair. “I can’t let you go either. So, you take this.” He handed the man his lion pendant. “You take it and make a new one for me. I know you can’t make protective charms for yourself as strong, so you wear that one. I added one of my own—it’s not as powerful, but… maybe it’ll help keep you safe if you’re so determined to jump in front of basilisks for me.”

Severus allowed Harry to slip the pendant around his neck and secure it under his robe. “Thank you, child. I shall find a new one for you soon.”

“Maybe a snake. For you, and since I can talk to them anyway. Then we can have a bit of each other around all the time.”

Severus smiled and nudged him closer. “A snake it is then.” He sighed into Harry’s hair. “What have I missed?”

Harry snorted. “A _lot_. The headmaster is back—Lucius Malfoy extorted the governors into sacking him, but they brought Dumbledore back when Ginny was taken. Oh, Headmaster Dumbledore healed your tail, by the way. When I told him it was broken and Madam Pomfrey couldn’t see it or sense it to heal you. I had to act as a channel for his powers—and Merlin, wasn’t that a rush—but we got it done together.”

“Thank you, little one.” Severus curled his tail around Harry’s legs and his own and sighed at the absence of pain. “It does feel much better.”

“I think I learned to heal when Headmaster Dumbledore was channelling his power through me,” said Harry with a wry smile. “I was able to do it myself the rest of the way, with his supervision, of course. The magic in my hands after that was so powerful—it’s like he unlocked some hidden part of me. Now he says I’ll be as good as Madam Pomfrey one day.”

Severus rubbed Harry’s cheek. “You are able to heal? _Wandlessly_ heal?”

“Y-yeah, just like a natural healer. Headmaster Dumbledore said he thinks that ability was there in me all along, but channelling me unlocked it earlier than usual, or maybe unblocked it. He said he sensed… something holding me back, but whatever he did removed the block on my true powers.” Harry shrugged. “I’ve been able to do charms and stuff easier since too.”

Severus smiled and kissed Harry’s forehead. He frowned at the scent of dark magic but pushed it aside. Harry _did_ have a curse scar, after all. Likely, the magic had left traces.

And it hit him like a sledgehammer. “Your scar! That is how you can speak Parseltongue without being Salazar’s descendant. It is leftover magic from the night he attacked you.”

Harry gave him an appreciative smile. “You really _are_ brilliant. Yeah, the headmaster said he thinks Riddle transferred some of his powers to me that night and that’s why I can speak to snakes. It scared me until he told me my choices made me a different person, and that I would never be able to heal naturally if I didn’t have goodness and love within my heart.”

“That is true, child.” Severus nudged him closer. “You are the most loving, gentlest, kindest child I know. And I believe this is why you have such powerful healing powers so young, though perhaps it is also because Albus unlocked them. You _are_ good, Harry. And having a few of the same powers as Riddle does not mean you will use them the same way.”

 Harry nodded and sighed into Severus’ neck. “That’s… you’re right. I’d never do the awful things he’s done, and maybe that’s what the headmaster meant by choices meaning more than our abilities.” He hugged Severus gently. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, child. Now, do tell me what happened next, after Albus returned.”

“Well, I talked to him about what happened in the Chamber, of course, and told him how you came to be poisoned.” Harry kissed Severus’ shoulder. “You’re a hero, but if you ever do something so stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Severus laughed softly. “I thought much the same when I realised you had gone into the Chamber alone.”

“Well, we’ll just keep each other from being brainless Gryffindors, yeah?”

“I, a brainless Gryffindor? Perish the thought.”

Harry laughed in his shoulder. “You certainly were when you shoved your arm in front of mine so the venom caught you and not me. _I_ _’m_  the one with the bloody anti-poison charm, for Merlin’s sake.”

“It would not have protected you against basilisk venom.”

“Might have lasted a bit longer. Fawkes had to scramble to save you in time. But anyway, I was catching you up. While I was talking to the headmaster, Lucius Malfoy stormed into Dumbledore’s office. He had Dobby with him, and Dobby showed me that the journal was Malfoy’s. I remembered it then—he had dropped it in Ginny’s cauldron before the school year began. So Dumbledore did that ‘subtle threat with a smile’ thing he does, and Malfoy ran away like a coward. But I grabbed the journal and returned it to him, with my dirty sock inside, that he then handed to Dobby.”

Severus chuckled softly. “You freed Malfoy’s house elf?”

“Sure did. And when Malfoy tried to attack me for it, Dobby blasted him into a wall. I need to draw that memory or something and frame it. Pity I’m no good.”

Severus smirked. “Perhaps not, but have you ever heard of something called a pensieve?”

“Er… no, what’s that?”

“A stone basin in which we can place your memory of Lucius Malfoy being bested by a house elf and view it to our hearts’ content.”

Harry stifled helpless giggles in Severus’ shoulder. “Sounds good, Sev. Let’s show it to the headmaster as soon as you’re feeling better.”

“As you wish.”


	8. Escapees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The summer of Harry's third year, with Severus on his side. Long chapter. Also, remember the tags, please. The Marauders are **antagonists** here, not good guys. Don't expect Lupin to be a hero in this story. He's very much not._

#  **Chapter 8**

##  _Escapees_

### 31  July, 1994

The night the news announced that Sirius Black had escaped prison, Severus came down from the roof and landed beside Harry in the garden, where the boy sat against the wall, listening to the news through the window. Harry looked up, startled, to see that Severus had gone bone white and was breathing hard.

“Severus? Hey, what is it?”

“Harry, promise me this—promise me you will never go after Black. Never alone.”

Harry gave Severus a bemused look. “The mass murderer? Why in Merlin’s name would I _want_ to?”

“ _Promise me_!”

Harry felt Severus shaking beside him and knew, whatever madness had overtaken his friend, it had disturbed him deeply. He slipped his hand into Severus’ and squeezed, avoiding his claws. “I promise, Severus. I won’t go after him, and especially not alone.”

Severus wrapped Harry in his arms and wings. “I cannot lose you. Cannot… love you too much.”

Harry kissed Severus’ shoulder and held him under his wings. “Ssh, it’s okay. I’m right here. It’s all right.”

“Stay away from that madman. _Please_.”

“Okay, Severus. Okay, I promise. Ssh. It’s going to be all right.”

Severus pulled back and nodded, breathing ragged and eyes rimmed in pink.

Harry smoothed his feathers with a gentle hand. “I take it Sirius Black isn’t a Muggle?”

“No. He—it was no gas explosion. Harry, the man was… he was….” Severus gave a broken sigh. “You _will_ keep your promise?”

“Merlin, Sev. Obviously, you’re terrified for me, which means the man has it in for me, which means I’d be utterly mad to go near him by choice. Of _course_ I’m not going to go after a bloody mass murderer.”

“Not even for revenge?”

Harry sighed and laid his head on Severus’ shoulder. “Haven’t you told me yourself what the cost of seeking vengeance is? No, I’m not going to go after him, even if I might have a reason to. All it would do is terrify you and possibly get me killed and drive you mad as a result. Nothing is worth that.”

Severus caught him in a rough embrace and kissed Harry’s hair. “You are wiser than I.” He sighed and held him tight. “Harry, Sirius Black was… your father’s best friend.”

Harry froze. “ _What_?”

“Yes. He… he was the Secret Keeper. For your parents.”

Harry listened, stunned and hardly able to breathe, as Severus related the tale. “As far as we know, Pettigrew, another of your parents’ friends who was… weak, confronted Black shortly after your parents’ deaths, and Black annihilated him, as well as a street full of innocent Muggles. They reportedly found nothing of Pettigrew at all but a severed finger.”

“Dear fucking _Merlin_.”

Severus shot the boy a look, but perhaps in light of Harry’s distress, did not reprimand him.

“But… _why_ , Severus? Why would he do that?” Harry looked into Severus’ eyes, tears on his lashes and his heart breaking. “You’re my best friend, and the thought of—oh gods. I could _never_. How could he do it?”

Severus tucked Harry’s head under his chin and wrapped him in his wings. “I do not know, child. I was a terrible being once, but the idea of harming someone I loved… you, Lily, Albus, Adam—no. I could never. Even at my worst, the thought of Lily being killed was enough to break me out of the grip of darkness so deep, I had lost myself to it. I cannot imagine the depth of depravity it would take to turn on one’s dearest friends. Indeed, one’s family, as Black’s blood relatives had turned him out.”

“D-do you think that’s why? Maybe because his family didn’t want him, it broke him?”

Severus shook his head, slowly, so as not to displace Harry’s. “To be honest, I do not know. There was always something… off about him, in my experience.”

“What did he do?”

“You recall Albus telling you of the four teenagers who bullied me in school?”

Harry nodded slightly and nudged in closer.

“Black was one of the worst.”

“Oh gods. What did he do, Sev?”

Severus shuddered. “Many things. One event resulted in… well, I was tortured in front of the entire fifth form. And later, I was nearly killed by a werewolf as a result of his cruelty.”

“And _this_ is the man my parents chose to trust with our lives?”

Severus wrapped Harry up close. “Harry, Black was cruel to me, but to your family… not even I would have believed him capable of turning on them, though I _did_ advise Albus to warn Potter about choosing another keeper for his secrets. Even so, your father and his friends were close—closer than brothers. I had imagined them to be unshakeably loyal to each other.”

Through tears, Harry spat, “And the fact that Black could torture and nearly murder an innocent boy never raised red flags?”

“I advised Albus against trusting him, but in the end, Potter chose his own secret keeper. Albus and I could do little to alter his decision, myself least of all.”

Harry sniffled and buried his face in Severus’ chest. “I just don’t understand how.”

Severus cupped Harry’s head and sheltered him in his wings. “That is because you, unlike Black, have a pure soul.”

Harry nodded and pressed his hand against Severus’ heart. “So do you.”

Severus’ breath caught. “No. I… I have… I am not pure. Nor innocent.”

“You are to me.”

Tears dropped in Harry’s hair and black wings folded him up tight. “Thank you,” Severus whispered.

“Mhm.” Harry sighed, content to be held in Severus’ warm embrace. “Do you have to go back up to the roof right away?”

“I should before too long, but no. Not immediately, if you do not wish me to.”

Harry nodded. “Marge is coming tonight. Vernon’s awful sister. Happy birthday to me, yeah?”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair. “I will give you your gift later, when it is safe.”

Harry sighed and relaxed against him. “This is gift enough, really. Just having you with me.”

Severus folded his tail around them both too and sat with Harry, holding him under a cooling charm, until Petunia called him in to make dinner.

“I am with you, Harry,” Severus whispered, and a soft kiss brushed Harry’s temple. “You are not alone.”

Harry squeezed Severus’ hand once more and steeled himself to deal with the horror that was his aunt.

 

* * *

 

“Gods, Severus, she’s bloody _awful_! Going on and on about bad blood and such, calling me a criminal and a deviant.” Harry kicked at the floor and growled. “And worse, you can’t stop her because she’s a Muggle and she doesn’t know about magic at all. It’ll bring the Ministry down on our heads whether they can track your curses or not. Then I’ll be expelled, you might be caught—no, I just have to deal with it. As much as I’d like to curse her from here to Paris.”

Severus grimaced. “I am sorry, child. I would spare you if I could. Perhaps I can use more… _subtle_ techniques to subdue her tongue.”

Harry shook his head and flopped onto the bed beside Severus. “It’s not worth the risk, Sev. I can handle her for a few days, maybe.”

“I will be here to keep you sane, as much as I can do.”

Harry gave a soft sigh and dropped his head onto Severus’ shoulder. “I’ll need you, for sure.”

Black wings folded him up and a soft, silver tail wrapped around his legs. “I have a gift for you if it helps at all.”

Harry gave him a warm smile. “You always help me.” He frowned. “I promise I’ll get you something this year for your birthday if you’ll tell me when it is. Please?”

“Harry, I do not require—”

“But I want to. I want to give you gifts like you do for me, even if I don’t have much to offer.”

Severus tugged him against his side. “Your trust and affection is the greatest gift I have ever received. I need nothing more.”

Harry gave him the ‘sad puppy dog’ look, and Severus relented with a sigh.

“Oh, very well. Tengu of my variety are always born in midwinter. My birthday is on the ninth of January.”

Harry beamed. “Thank you, Severus. I’ll get you something nice to make up for all the birthdays I couldn’t.”

Severus gave him a stern look. “By owl order, or made by your own hand. Do not risk yourself in public alone simply to give me a gift. I would much rather have the gift of your safety and continued friendship.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. I’ll have Hermione get some catalogues for me. But maybe you’ll have to give me ones about potions and stuff. I couldn’t ask her for those without looking suspicious.”

“Unless you tell her you mean to study harder for potions so I’ve no excuse to tear into you this year.”

Harry gave him a wry grin. “That’s a good idea. Sure, I’ll go with that. And I’ll actually stick to it, too. I like potions when you’re not pretending to hate me. Anyway, what did you get for me?”

Severus took a small package from his breast pocket and laid it on Harry’s lap, blushing softly, as he had last year. “It is not much, and I will understand if you would prefer not to wear it, but—”

Harry gave him a soft smile. “Severus, I’m sure it’s fine. I loved the lion and the snake pendants you picked out for me. I’m sure I’ll like this too.”

Severus flushed bright pink. “Well, go on then.”

Harry grinned and tore into the paper—yellow and green this time. Inside, he found a glittering armband in the shape of a snake, complete with an engraved chevron pattern down its back. It had eyes made of tiny cyan gemstones, and its tail wrapped around the head to fasten it. Harry gaped at the armband and back up at Severus.

“ _Not much_? This must have cost a fortune! It’s diamond, Severus!”

Severus snorted. “No, no. It is only crystal and chrysolite. Crystal holds magic better than diamond—and it is more within my means, of course—and chrysolite is a powerful gem for maintaining the purity of one’s state of mind. As this has protections against mind-altering spells, it seemed a good choice.”

“Mind-altering spells… like the journal? Riddle’s journal, I mean?”

“Indeed. And the _Imperius_ curse, an Unforgivable which subjects your will entirely to the caster. This will not stop the curse entirely, but it gives you the option to fight back. The battle still comes down to your willpower, but I have faith in your Gryffindor stubbornness’ ability to overcome all evil.”

Harry laughed and slipped the armband up his arm, settling it across the widest part of his right bicep. The band shrunk until it fit snugly against his skin without pinching and stayed even when Harry pushed on it.

“There is a sticking charm to hold it in place so it cannot be removed by anyone but yourself,” Severus explained. “If you need to move it, the incantation is _Transvenio Armilla_ , if you need to remove it, the incantation is _Transvecto Armilla_. You should not need your wand as I attuned it to your vocal commands. The charm will reset when you put it back on. Obviously, don’t practise it until you are back at school. I will remove it for you when you wish it—just beckon me and point to your arm, and I will know what you mean.”

Harry grinned and stroked the snake’s head. “It feels warm.”

“The magic heats the crystal from within.”

“Ah.”

Severus’ ears were flat against his head, his nervousness and uncertainty apparent. Harry smiled and smoothed his hands over the yokai’s ears, gently petting Severus’ silky silver fur and warm skin.

“Sev, I love it. Thank you.”

Severus’ ears popped up and a shy smile crossed his face. His tail thumped on the bed, though he blushed and slowed the motion immediately after he noticed it.

 _‘Adorable,’_ Harry thought, and grinned to himself.

“I am… glad,” Severus murmured.

Harry rubbed the crystal with a smile. “Might be able to get through this week in one piece with this on my arm. I’ll know you’re with me.”

Severus wrapped his wing around Harry’s back and hugged him tight. “I always will be.”

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

The bracelet, unfortunately, was _not_ enough to bring Harry through the week. Bitches, pups, bad blood and bad influences—Harry couldn’t take another word. He had made Marge swell to massive proportions, revealing her for the pompous windbag she was and sent her floating about the ceiling. This, of course, made his uncle turn on him and refuse to sign his Hogsmeade form, but Harry had bigger problems. With this use of accidental magic, he would have been expelled.

He had packed his trunk and ran halfway down the street before he remembered Severus. The Tengu dropped out of thin air, transforming from a crow into his usual shape, and caught Harry into his arms before he could run any further.

“Harry, ssh. I am here. Where are you going?”

Harry rubbed his eyes, ashamed to find tears already flowing. He was fourteen now! He was too big to break down like this every time something… something _awful_ happened. And yet, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face in Severus’ robe and clung to him, struggling to hold back sobs.

“I d-don’t know. Somewhere. I have to leave. Vernon is going to k-kill me and I’ll be expelled and—”

“Harry, slow down.”

“We _can’t_ , Sev! The Ministry—we have to run!”

“Shite!”

Severus caught Harry in his arms. “I’m going to call the Knight Bus. I want you to ride it—here is a little money to cover the trip.” He pressed some galleons into Harry’s palm. “Tell them your name is… I don’t know. Make something up. Just don’t tell them your real name. Go to the Leaky Cauldron and ask Tom to put you up. And hurry.”

“O-okay, but what about you?”

“I can apparate or fly, child. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Right.”

“Wait here, and do stay back from the road.”

Severus jerked up his wand, and a violently-purple double-decker bus appeared out of nowhere and careened to a halt just beside them. Severus nudged the shock-frozen Harry forwards.

“Get in. Hurry. I’ll be with you again soon.”

“O-okay.”

Harry forced his unsteady legs forwards but stopped before he had taken two steps. A huge black dog with glowing green eyes was watching him, teeth bared and a growl in his throat. Harry backed into his companion’s chest.

“S-Sev?”

The Tengu shot sparks at the dog, but the beast lunged at him rather than running away. Harry hardly had time to think as Severus spun them out of danger, shoved Harry into the just-opened doors of the bus, and shot away into the air. As Harry toppled into a gangly, speckle-faced boy, he caught a glimpse of black wings and a dark beak shining in the moonlight. A caw from atop the bus let Harry know Severus was okay, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, he remembered the dog.

“Shite! Get me out of here!” He scrambled to his feet and went to jerk the doors closed, but the giant dog had vanished. “What in Merlin’s name?”

He shook his head. There was no time to think about it now.

“Um, sorry.” Harry heaved the speckled boy to his feet. “Are you okay?”

The boy nodded and brushed off his uniform. “Take more’n that to off me, won’t it, Ern?”

The driver grunted agreement. A shrunken head above the dash cackled and teased back in a Jamaican accent.

“Anyway, the name’s Stan Shunpike, and welcome to the Knight Bus!” The boy stuck out his hand, and Harry shook it.

“Um, I’m… Neville Longbottom. And I’m kind of in a hurry. Can you take me to Diagon Alley?”

“Right away, Neville. Take ‘er away, Ern!”

 

* * *

 

Severus clung to the roof of the Knight Bus for dear life, but, when he realised he would lose the cloak before long, he apparated to Diagon Alley instead. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw who stood at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. Lime green bowler hat, self-important swagger, rounded belly, and an ego bigger than all of London put together.

The Minister of Magic.

With a grimace, Severus ducked behind a nearby fence and watched through the slats. He still had Harry’s cloak on, and there was no reason why the Minister _should_ suspect his true nature, but the fewer opportunities Severus gave him to question it, the better.

Not to mention, he would learn more about what the idiot was up to by observation than participation.

Harry staggered into Diagon Alley a moment later, winded and a little green around the gills, and Severus swallowed a twinge of guilt. The Knight Bus was an… _interesting_ experience for even those used to its wild manner of transportation. A beginner would most certainly find it alarming, especially to be shoved upon the bus without warning.

Severus promised himself he would make it up to Harry later, if they both came through the night intact.

He watched, eyes narrowed and suspicions high, as Fudge greeted the boy and told him to stay in the Leaky Cauldron until school started again. Not even a reprimand? Well, perhaps the idiot was just glad Harry hadn’t been killed with Black running amuck.

Harry looked behind him as the Minister steered him to a table, and his relief at the sight of Severus hovering about was palpable. Severus stood as near the boy as he dared, staying out of the way along the back wall, listening to the conversation that followed. To his relief, Harry looked just as suspicious and flabbergasted as Severus himself felt.

Severus sighed in relief when the pompous man left and moved to Harry’s side, leaning down to whisper,

“I will stay near and follow you to your room once Tom chooses it.”

Harry responded with a barely-perceptible nod and a surreptitious brush of Severus’ hand.

 

* * *

 

Once Harry and Severus were safely ensconced in his room, Harry sat on the bed cross-legged and motioned for Severus to sit across him.

“Sev, what in Merlin’s name was that all about? Why did the Minister himself come? And why did they not expel me?”

Severus shook his head. “I am as much in the dark as you are. I can only suppose the Minister came to ensure your safety and did not write you up for the same reasons.” His eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps with Black on the loose, they did not want to alienate one of the only wizards the world at large believes powerful enough to challenge him.”

Harry gasped. “But I’m fourteen! What do they think I’m going to do, _levitate_ him?”

To Harry’s shock, something dark and painful flickered across Severus’ face. “You would be surprised of how… terrible such a spell can be.”

Harry’s belly boiled with rage. “He hurt you that way. Black.”

Severus closed his eyes and nodded once, tersely. “It was the… precursor to the incident of arguable torture I mentioned earlier in the week.”

Harry winced. “M’sorry, Sev. I didn’t know.” He curled into his friend’s side and pulled him into a hug. “I’ll protect you from now on, okay?”

Severus squeezed Harry tight, then drew back with a shaky sigh. “Do not ask me to speak of it. Please.”

Harry slipped his hand into Severus’ and nodded. “It’s okay. There are things I don’t like to talk about too.” He traced a fingertip over Severus’ claws. “Have you ever managed to find a spell to keep them from cutting me?”

“No, but perhaps it is not necessary now that you are able to heal wandlessly.”

“Maybe not.” Harry frowned. “Sev, it’s dangerous for you to research what you are, but could _I_ get books for you without bringing you under fire?”

Severus frowned. “Perhaps. I would not advise purchasing many resources at the same time. The Ministry tracks them. A purchase of a book here and there would be seen as a simple interest in the topic, but anything more could bring you under suspicion, and by association, me.”

“Right. Then just let me know if there’s anything you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

Severus nodded. “While you are here, you might put in an order for….” He whispered the rest in Harry’s ear, “ _Demons and Spirits of the East_ by Saito Tamaki. I have thought I might find an answer to our claw problem there, but could not risk purchasing it before now. I will give you the money for it in the morning after I have had a chance to visit the bank myself. It is quite rare, and therefore, expensive.”

Harry winced and whispered back, “Won’t they wonder why the supposed chosen one is interested in such a book then?”

Severus’ lips curled up in a smirk. “Tell them you’ve heard yokai might have helped Black escape prison and you’re learning how to protect yourself from them. Act as though you’re determined to make sure no yokai harm your loved ones. That will play on the hero card as well as draw sympathy. They won’t have the heart to question you then.”

Harry chuckled, though it held a note of sorrow. “You have an answer for everything.”

“It is part of my job description.”

“I wish you didn’t have to do it.”

Severus kissed Harry’s hair. “I know, child. I wish too. But we have no other agents who can do what I can. I must, for the good of us all. For you.”

“I know I can’t go with you, Sev, but is there anything I _can_ do to help when you do have to start… working again?”

Severus closed his eyes and nodded. “Your healing would come in useful. And your… faith in me. Your love. I fear I shall have to become someone I would rather not be again.”

“I know.” Harry laid his head on Severus’ shoulder. “Even if you have to do bad things, I still love you and I still know you’re a good _man_.” He winked on the last word so Severus knew he was trying to keep him safe.

Severus simply curled his tail around Harry and held him tight.

 

* * *

 

Severus had hardly left Harry’s side since hearing of Black’s escape, but he _did_ have obligations to the school. He only left when Harry was out in public, safely in view of scores of armed adults. Not that he imagined they wouldn’t turn tail and flee at the first sign of trouble, but he hoped their presence would discourage Black—or anyone else who might have it in for Harry—to stay away. Harry promised he would stay in the open while Severus was gone, or failing that, go to the Leaky, where Tom could keep an eye on him.

The owner of Flourish and Blotts had promised to look for the yokai book for Harry, but as it was exceedingly rare, he had no idea when he could procure a copy. Harry told him to just keep a tab open for his account and draw the money out when he found it. In the meantime, he had made good use of the sunshine and his freedom, spending his time either browsing the shops or revising for the year at Fortescue’s.

Severus had noticed Harry’s interest in the Firebolt and wished he had the money to purchase it for him right away, but his salary wouldn’t cover such an expense even with Albus’ generous ‘hazard pay’ allowance. Still, he began setting galleons aside each day in hopes that he might buy it, or a newer model, for Harry as a Christmas gift. Merlin, he had never considered such a lavish gift for anyone before—not even Lily—but then again, no one had ever loved Severus before either. At least, no one but Harry had ever said it.

And perhaps that made all the difference. At any rate, it made Severus want to bring him every joy he could.

He pondered his attachment to Harry on the way to Albus’ office to retrieve the orders for the Infirmary and begin brewing. At this point, he thought there was nothing he wouldn’t do for the boy who had so stolen his affections, but how did they love each other, exactly? Harry didn’t feel like a son, though by all rights, he probably should. Nor a brother. And simple friendship didn’t seem to cover their bond either. Severus shook his head as he reached the gargoyle and put his thoughts aside. It didn’t matter, really. They loved each other dearly, and that was all he needed to know.

“Sugar quills,” Severus muttered to the gargoyle and nodded as it moved aside. He took the steps to Albus’ office two at a time and knocked before poking his head inside the door. “Albus? I’ve come to see what potions Poppy ne….” He cut himself off at the sight of tattered robes, greying brown hair, and a scarred visage with deceptively kind brown eyes. “You! What are _you_ doing here?”

Albus sighed and motioned Severus inside. “Severus, please. I had hoped to warn you before now, but I suppose it cannot be helped. Come in and have a seat. There is much we must discuss.”

Severus scowled and made to sit in front of the old man’s desk as far away from the wolf as he could manage, but Albus shook his head and pointed to the staircase in the back. “In my quarters, Severus. Remus, please do follow me.”

Severus’ heart slammed into his ribs. Oh dear gods, the wolf _knew_. Of course, he would have to. He had superhuman abilities. Did that mean Greyback knew as well? Shite. Severus would have to learn ways to hide his scent from werewolves now.

 _If_ Lupin didn’t kill him before he had the chance.

The werewolf eyed Severus warily. “Lovely to see you again, Severus.”

Severus snarled and took a step back. “I did not grant you permission to use my given name, _wolf_.”

Lupin’s thin smile faltered. “It was an attempt to establish a working relationship and bury the hatchet. You may use mine.”

“No, _thank you_.”

Severus stalked past him, up the stairs and into Albus’ private living room. Albus had already Summoned a teapot and three cups, condiments, and a plate of several varieties of biscuits. Severus made a note to bring a few of the raspberry and chocolate kind back for Harry, who liked them the most of all the biscuits Albus kept. Well, he would take them if he managed to come out of this meeting unscathed.

Lupin came into the room and closed the door behind him, giving Albus a bemused look as the man cast several warding charms around the room.

“Now that we are protected, have a seat, Remus. Severus, do help yourself to some tea. It will help calm you before a discussion that will, unfortunately, be quite stressful for all of us, but you especially.”

Severus obeyed just to have something to do with his hands. Images of his attack in seventh year flickered into his mind—as if he didn’t see them enough in his dreams, now he had to face his near-murderer and one of his greatest fears in the daylight, too.

“Now, I fear we have a problem,” said Albus with a sad smile. “Severus, Remus, you will need to work together for the coming year—”

Severus nearly spat his tea across the room. “ _What_?”

Albus dabbed tea from his beard. “Surely you have heard of the new anti-werewolf legislation passed this past month?”

Severus glared. “And I care because?”

“Because said legislation has made it impossible for Remus to find paying work. And so, as we are a professor short and Remus is more than qualified for the position, I have asked him to teach defence for the year.”

Severus snarled, “Last year, you hired a fraudulent buffoon who attempted to erase the memory of two students and leave them to die. The year before that, it was the literal Dark Lord on the back of Quirrell’s unsightly skull. And now you have hired a slavering beast who tortured his peers for fun. I must say, Albus, your choice of employees as of late is beginning to become rather alarming.”

Lupin gave him a tight smile. “He hired you, did he not?”

Severus resisted throwing his tea on the arsehole only because he liked Albus and he thought the man would be hesitant to invite him into his quarters in the future if Severus stained his favourite sofa with tea. Or werewolf innards, as the case would most certainly be if this gods-forsaken meeting went on much longer.

Albus shot Lupin a reproachful look. “Yes, I did, and I no more regret hiring Severus than I do you. Perhaps the previous two instructors were, indeed, regrettable, but neither of you has disappointed me yet. As adults at least.”

At this, both Severus and Lupin looked away, a pink flush tinging their cheeks.

“Let us get this out of the way right now,” Albus continued. “Remus, your treatment of Severus in your school years was absolutely abhorrent. Severus, as much as I believe you have the right to be angry, do try to remember that Remus could, in no way, have prevented you from entering the shack that night, nor was he complicit in the crime.”

“And fifth year, Albus?” Severus held his gaze, betrayal cold in his chest. “When he watched his beloved friends strip me before the entire fifth form, mock my naked body, and beat me with magical whips? Was he complicit after said event, when he pretended not to notice as Potter—”

He choked back the words threatening to spill from him, the truth no one knew—not even Potter had known by the time Severus had finished with him—and the tears crowding his eyelids. Albus gave him a worried look, but Severus pretended not to see it. No. He would not let his greatest moment of weakness show here. Not now.

“Was he complicit then, when he stood by as a figure of authority and did _nothing_?”

Albus watched Severus a while longer, but when the yokai didn’t acknowledge his worry, he fixed his gaze on Lupin. Without saying a word, the old man caused the werewolf to give a slight cry of dismay and drop his head.

“In that,” Lupin said, his voice unsteady, “I will admit that I was… that I….” He looked up, and Severus startled at the sight of tears on his lashes. “Severus, I—that day—of all the times we hurt you, that was the worst. I… at least the worst that I had any control over. And I’ve—I have honestly regretted it my entire adult life. I _am_ sorry.”

“Sorry does not remove the scars from my body.” Or his soul.

Lupin stared at his knees and whispered, “I know. I… I should have stopped it, Severus. I should have—I don’t know. But standing there and doing nothing was awful.”

Severus said nothing, though the wolf’s apology _had_ eased his pain somewhat. He had no reason to believe the man was sincere. After all, Albus was still in the room. More than likely, Lupin had simply turned on the waterworks to appease his new employer. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Thank you,” Albus said, and offered Lupin a cup of tea as well. “Drink. It does tend to help calm the nerves.”

“Because you dose it with Calming Draught,” Severus muttered under his breath.

Across the table, Lupin snorted. “I always wondered.”

Albus chuckled softly. “My secret is out.” He gave Severus a sad smile. “And I am afraid, my friend, so is yours.”

Severus dropped his teacup and jerked to his feet. In a split second, he was across the room, wings outstretched, wand at the ready, claws exposed and ears flat against his skull.

“Severus….” Albus stood and moved to his friend, palms out in a conciliatory gesture, while Lupin watched with wary eyes and bared teeth. “Peace, my friend. I have already asked a vow of secrecy from Remus. He cannot reveal your status in any way, shape, or form without losing his magic and his life.”

“And if he believes it a worthy sacrifice to take down one such as myself?” Severus hated himself for the warble in his tone, for the insecurity it revealed, but he couldn’t help his fear.

Albus laid his hands on Severus’ wrists and slowly guided him to lower his wand. “Then I would protect you. And you know perfectly well that I am not the only one who would.”

“Would it matter? The Ministry would not listen to you.”

“They might listen to Harry.”

Severus scoffed bitterly. “Until the Prophet paints him as a monster next week or Fudge decides Harry has too much power and needs to be ‘neutralised’ for the ‘greater good.’”

Lupin’s eyes narrowed. “You called him Harry.”

Severus snarled. “And? I hardly think that is the most concerning issue at hand.”

“What is your relationship with him?”

“How is that any of _your_ business?”

Lupin’s eyes flashed. “You said it yourself, Severus. If I deem the cause worthy enough, I might be willing to die. Harry is worthy enough. So?”

“You will threaten me into revealing my secrets? I can see you’ve turned over a new leaf indeed. Only it rather resembles the one before it, but who am I to judge? Monsters are not my forte, after all.”

Lupin scowled. “Aren’t they?”

Severus dropped his glamours and faced the werewolf head on. “Look on me well, _wolf_. I am a _dark_ yokai—half canine Tengu—but never evil. And you see these?” He curved his wings forward. “Those would be indicative of my angelic half. So no, I am not a monster, at least not as concerns my biological makeup, and I have never been. Even at my worst, I had standards I would not compromise. You, on the other hand, become a mindless killing machine one day a month. Of the two, I would rather face one of my kin than yours.”

Lupin stood too, a growl building in his throat. “And that mark on your arm? Are we pretending that it doesn’t exist?”

Albus clapped his hands. “Gentlemen. Sit _down_.”

Both werewolf and yokai obeyed, glaring at each other and shoulders tense with hatred. Albus sighed and conjured an armchair between the sofas, watching both professors with an expression of intense disappointment. Faced with that look, Severus was the first to bow his head in dismay. Of all the people he never wanted to disappoint, Harry and Albus topped the list.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Lupin lower his head as well.

“Now then,” Albus said in a firm, but kind voice, “that is quite enough out of both of you. You are neither one monsters, or you would not be in my employ.”

Severus shot him a wry look, and Albus gave a soft laugh.

“Quirinus does not count, Severus, as I did not realise he had Tom’s spirit pasted to the back of his head. I assure you, if I had done, he would not have lasted long in this position, Ministry-appointed professor or not.”

He poured a fresh cup of tea for both men and pushed the condiments towards them. Severus drank it plain rather than risk coming near Lupin. Across the table, Lupin did the same.

“Gentlemen,” said Albus in a tone of gentle reproach, “this cannot go on. Severus, you know well that, with wolfsbane, werewolves are perfectly safe every day of the month, Greyback and his ilk notwithstanding. You invented the potion.”

Severus took great pleasure in Lupin’s stunned expression.

“And you, Remus,” Albus continued, “are out of line by comparing Severus to a monster when he has aided me as my spy and protected Harry admirably for over fourteen years.”

Lupin shut his gaping mouth with a click. “Protected him? From _what_? From all I’ve heard, you’ve been abominably cruel to the boy.”

Severus glared. “Crueller than the supposed surrogate uncle who abandoned him for thirteen years? Do you even know where he has been living? Do you know his favourite colour? His fears? His dreams? Do you have any knowledge of him at all, beyond the fact that he physically resembles the elder Potter and has Lily’s eyes?”

Lupin’s throat bobbed. “And you do?”

Severus sat tall and glared the werewolf down. “He has been living with Lily’s bitch of a sister, her abominable husband, and their spoiled brat son in Surrey. They would have been, without my intervention over the years, abominably abusive and neglectful, and Harry would have most likely spent all of his time before Hogwarts in the cupboard under the stairs. Or at least he would have done until his aunt and uncle wanted the chores done. Then, they would have dragged him out to do all of them at once, berate him while he did it, and then beat and starve him when he did not perform to their impossible standards. _That_ is what you abandoned him to, and what I spared him from.”

Lupin made a strangled sound of protest, but Severus continued over him.

“As for Harry himself, his favourite colour is blue—not sky blue, but he loves indigo. He also loves red, of course, but a darker red than Gryffindor’s colours—crimson rather than true red. He fears, more than anything, endangering the lives of those he loves by his reputation and fated role. He dreams of a normal life, one in which he is not the Chosen One and the Boy-Who-Lived, but just Harry, with a little house in the countryside and someone who loves him.”

“But… why would he not want to be the hero he is?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Would _you_ wish to be saddled with inescapable fame, fame you feel you did not earn and that came from the death of your parents and attempted murder of yourself, and the burden of killing a powerful dark wizard who has it in for you and whom any number of fully-trained, adult wizards have never been able to touch? And as a child?”

Lupin frowned. “Well, I suppose if you put it like that, but—k”

“That is how Harry feels about his fame, not I. It is what he has told me.”

“Why would he tell you anything?”

Severus glared. “He has told me many things. Besides that which I already mentioned, he enjoys healing magic, defence, and charms, and he is skilled in all three, particularly when he is studying anything originating in Light magic. He enjoys shepherd’s pie, lasagne, and chicken salad, and, while he does not have much of a sweet tooth, he also enjoys treacle tart, cherry pie, and chocolate. His best friends are Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, both Gryffindors in his year, though he has a rather good relationship with Luna Lovegood as well, a Ravenclaw one year below him.” Severus gave Lupin a sharp smile. “And as to how I know this and why Harry tells me everything? That would be because _I_ hold the honour of being his first and best friend overall.”

“But… but Arthur said—”

“Arthur can only tell you what he sees, Lupin. And what he sees is the role I must play when I am in public, around the children of Death Eaters and gossips and fools. Harry knows I mean not a word of what I say to him in class, but that it is only a front to keep us both safe. In private, we are close friends. The closest friend I have ever had, despite his youth.” Severus’ heart panged with sorrow. “He is far too mature for his age—the lonely years before me and the heavy burden of fate upon his shoulders have aged him too soon.”

Lupin stared at Albus, gobsmacked.

“Everything Severus has told you is the absolute truth,” said Albus with a shrug. “Harry can see Severus—his true form—whether he is invisible or not. We believe he is clairvoyant, but however he came upon his abilities of sight, he knew that Severus had guarded and protected him his entire life the moment he entered the Great Hall for the first time. Therefore, he was not fooled by Severus’ act for the public and latched onto him from the first day of classes, when he confronted Severus afterwards and saw the truth despite Severus’ attempts to protect him by his distance. They have been all but inseparable ever since.”

Something about Albus’ words struck Severus as odd, something about their visibility to each other, perhaps, but he hadn’t time to focus on it with the werewolf staring at him like he had just stepped out of an alien spacecraft.

“I… I just can’t believe this,” said a dumbfounded Lupin. “Why would Harry… of all the people he might…?”

Severus snarled. “Why would he care for _Snivellus_? The impoverished, friendless, abused Slytherin you all but shattered? Why indeed.” He stood and replaced his glamours. “Albus, I have had all of his presence I can stand. Do you have the list of potions Poppy needs for the Infirmary? I had planned on starting them today, though now….”

He scoffed and turned his back on the wolf, facing Albus with a grim expression.

“Albus, if he does plan on revealing me, please try to give me some advance warning, if it is at all possible. I will make sure Harry is… prepared. Or try, though I fear there is little I can do to ease his grief.”

Lupin flinched and looked away.

Albus handed Severus a slip of parchment. “Poppy’s list. I will make sure Remus knows there is more than old rivalries at stake, and by betraying you, he is also betraying Harry in a way he will never be able to forgive. And, indeed, may not survive.”

Severus nodded and swept away. Albus’ voice carried down the stairs as he made his way out of the office.

“And now, Remus, if you want to know what the cost of your betrayal would be, I suggest you take a little trip to Diagon Alley, stay awhile and observe the passers-by, and find out. You are quite mista—”

Severus shut the office door behind him and made his way to the gates. He should be brewing while he had the time, but after such a catastrophe of a meeting, he needed comfort. He needed to know someone still saw him as worthy, that someone loved him in spite of everything.

He had almost forgotten, until Black escaped and Lupin returned to Hogwarts, how much it hurt to be so badly misjudged for no reason at all.

 

* * *

 

Harry looked up from his ice cream to see Severus walking towards the parlour’s patio, his shoulders slumped and his face haloed with the signs of a disguise on top of his usual protective glamours. Thank Merlin, Severus could never hide from Harry. As the man approached, Harry pushed out the seat beside him and took him right into a hug.

“You look miserable, Severus. What happened? Are you okay?”

Severus sighed and laid his head on Harry’s shoulder. “I simply needed to know you still cared.”

Harry stroked Severus’ hair down his back and pulled him closer. “I love you, Severus. Always have, always will.”

Severus buried his face in Harry’s shoulder. His breath hitched a little, and Harry kissed the top of his ear.

“I’m here. Ssh. It’s all right.”

After a moment, Severus sat up and dragged his tail across his face. Harry had long since learned the man wiped his tears that way so the public needn’t know he had wept at all. It was endearing, to have this secret between them, Severus’ soft side that he trusted with no one else.

“Come,” Severus whispered. “Let us get out of the public eye.”

Harry laid a coin on the table for Fortescue, glad that the man wasn’t about to refuse his money this time, and guided Severus away. “Come on. I know the perfect place.”

Between Madam Malkin’s and Eeylop’s Owl Emporium, a tiny alley led to a glade full of trees and flowering bushes. Harry suspected the owls used it at night or when they needed to stretch their wings, but for the moment, it was empty. He led Severus to a secluded spot under a swaying magnolia, heavy with white blooms and waxy leaves, and took the Tengu’s hands.

“All right, talk. What happened?”

Severus conjured a bench and guided Harry to sit at his side. “Do you remember what I told you about Black? That he was part of a group of bullies who tormented me throughout Hogwarts?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“The werewolf—I told you Black sent me after a werewolf and nearly killed me?”

Harry nodded.

“That same werewolf was, at the time Black tortured me in the incident I said I cannot speak of, a prefect at Hogwarts and one of Black’s best friends. He allowed it—the werewolf. He let it happen and did nothing to protect me nor to punish his friends. I found out later that Albus was quite harsh on them for their treatment of me, but at the time, it was not readily apparent, and that incident was part of what drove me to… to _Tom_. Because I believed no one cared enough to stop the abuse, I imagined I had no allies on the side of Light at all.”

Severus shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. “And there was one terrible incident in my fifth year—I was punished for heinous abuse. I know now that Albus did not know what had happened and so assumed the spell I had cast as self-defence had been done with intent to harm, but at the time, I imagined he had punished me because he did not value my life. Because he believed the life of… one of my kin to matter less than that of my abuser. It was all too much, and so I ran to the first person who treated me as someone worthy—and all but sold my soul as a result.”

Harry squeezed his hands and traced his thumbs over Severus’ wrists, trying to comfort him in whatever way the yokai would allow.

“The werewolf I mentioned before was… perhaps not as cruel as the other three, certainly not the abuser who caused me to leave the Light, but he condoned their behaviour. He knew what they had done, and he never acted in my defence, even though he was supposed to be seen as a figure of authority and an aid to the students.”

Harry scowled. “Then he was just as bad. If he had the power to stop it and never did, that’s almost worse. He didn’t participate in the abuse?”

Severus shook his head. “He watched, but never participated.”

“Then he’s worse. That means he knew it was wrong, but he was too much of a coward to stand up for you. What house was he?”

Severus snorted. “Gryffindor.”

“ _What_? That’s the least Gryffindor thing to do—I mean, I know we lions are brash and stupid sometimes, but we don’t sit by and twiddle our thumbs while people are abused under our noses.” Harry sighed. “At least, I thought we didn’t.”

“Harry, the entire group that tormented me—they were _all_ Gryffindors.”

Harry gave a broken snort. “I was wrong. Apparently, Gryffindors can be arseholes too.”

Severus rubbed his wing along Harry’s face. “Not you. Never you.”

Harry gave him a sad smile. “No. So where did all this come from? Did thinking about Black just bring it back to you?”

“No, but wait. I must….”

Severus cast a silencing ward, though he added some strange incantation to the end of it that Harry had never heard him use before. He could have sworn he heard something like _Lupine_ in it.

“The werewolf—his name is Remus Lupin.”

That was what Harry had heard, Lupin’s name. Had Severus set him as an exception to his wards for some reason?

“And,” Severus went on, “he is this year’s Defence professor.”

Harry gasped. “ _What_? Good lord, what is going _on_ with the headmaster’s hiring practises?”

Severus snorted and burst into soft laughter. “I said much the same when I came to pick up Poppy’s inventory and discovered Lupin in Albus’ office.”

Harry scowled. “I think I need to have a little _chat_ with the headmaster. At this rate, next year he’ll have an actual Death Eater for the Defence professor.”

“Why not? He has already hired the Dark Lord himself.”

Harry smirked. “Are we talking of Lockhart or Quirrell?”

Severus chuckled. “Gods, Lockhart _was_ awful, wasn’t he?” He shuddered and wrapped his arms around his chest. “I never imagined I would wish for that fraud to return over what Albus has chosen now.”

Harry rubbed Severus’ hands. “I’m sorry, Sev. Maybe we can talk him out of it?”

“No. Lupin has most likely already signed a contract, and we have more to worry about regardless.”

Harry winced. “What _now_?”

Severus leaned over to whisper, “Harry, werewolves have superhuman powers of smell. He _knows_. He knows what I am.”

Harry paled and grabbed Severus’ arms. “He’s not—he won’t—please tell me he’s not going to—I _can’t_ lose you!”

Severus caught Harry up and hid him in his arms and wings. “Ssh. Little one, he swore a vow to say nothing or lose his magic and life.” He shivered. “And also threatened that he might break it if he believed me a threat to you.”

“Why should that arsehole care about me?”

“Because he was your father’s _other_ best friend.”

Harry gave a bitter sob. “Merlin, Dad could really pick them, huh? An utter arse of a werewolf and a mass murderer. Sounds like the only one with any courage at all was Pettigrew.”

Severus gave an aborted sob. “Pettigrew was as bad as the others.”

“Damn. So that means… my father was too, wasn’t he? It’s why you use him against me in class. Because you have a valid reason to, and you know no one in a position to hurt you would doubt it.”

Severus said nothing and looked away.

“Sev….” Harry gently turned his face back. “Tell me. Please.”

Severus shook his head and dropped his gaze. “I can’t. I swore I would never hurt you again.”

“You haven’t,” Harry murmured. “You never have. Look at me, Severus.”

Slowly, Severus lifted his eyes, and Harry read the truth in their dark depths, glossy with the tears the yokai couldn’t hide.

Harry’s father had been the worst of them all.

With a sigh, he brought Severus into a hug and rubbed his back, tears bleeding down his face and his heart raw.

“I can’t believe they could be so awful to you. I just… I don’t understand.”

“You are too good to be so cruel,” Severus murmured. “Love cannot understand cruelty, and cruelty cannot understand love.”

Harry sniffled and hugged Severus tight. “I do love you, Severus. For good reason, too. I just can’t understand why someone would be so mean to you when you’re so smart and beautiful and brave. You’re such a good person. I mean, sure, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ve done everything you can to atone for them, and you’re so wonderful to me. Why don’t more people see you like I do?”

Severus’ breath caught and his body trembled in Harry’s arms. “Child… _I_ do not even see myself in such a manner. You truly think so well of me?”

“You’re my hero, Severus. I think you deserve to be loved. You should have had a family by now—someone to love you besides me. You’re so good and brave and intelligent and beautiful and kind, it boggles my mind that I’m the only one who’s noticed. It’s just not fair that you’ve been left so entirely alone all your life when you deserve so much more.”

Severus’ voice came out soft and broken. “H-Harry… oh gods. Child, I—how? How can you be so—?” He breathed in harshly and rocked Harry close, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder. “Merlin, I love you so much, Harry. I am so fortunate to have you for a friend.”

“I am too, Sev, to have you.” Harry laughed softly, though it came out half sob. “I mean, how many people do you know who would take a bite from a bloody basilisk for their friends?”

Severus chuckled sadly and kissed Harry’s hair. “I would do it again gladly if it means you live on.”

Harry pulled back with a sniffle and wiped his face. “You have to live, too. I need you, Sev. Can you imagine what the Dursleys would have done to me by now without the help of your ‘plagues’ to keep them in line? Gods, I don’t even want to think….”

Severus smoothed Harry’s hair and gave him a sad smile. “I imagine you would be much shorter, too thin, too pale, sickly from lack of food and rest, your eyesight weaker from years in the cupboard, and you would most likely bear scars. Your uncle is the kind of man who thinks there is power in dominating those weaker than him, and he is afraid of anything different. You would have been an all too convenient target.”

At Harry’s shudder, Severus wrapped his arm and wing around Harry’s back and pulled him to rest against his side. “But I _am_ here, and as long as I live, the Dursleys will not harm you again. At least, I shall do everything within my power to prevent it.”

Harry smiled and snuggled closer, tucking his feet under his legs. “Yeah. And as long as I live—”

“Which had best be until you are older than Albus.”

Harry chuckled. “Yes, sir. Anyway, as long as I live, Lupin won’t hurt you. Not Black either.” He shivered and laid his head against Severus’ shoulder. “I wish I could protect you from Tom too, but I promise I’ll heal you as much as I can.”

Severus brushed a kiss against Harry’s temple. “I know you will, child.” He sighed and patted Harry’s shoulder. “Come. I must attempt to brew today before the sun sets, and you have studies to finish.”

Harry gasped. “Oh Merlin, I left my books—”

Severus pointed to a knapsack at his feet. “I noticed.”

Harry chuckled and heaved his knapsack over his shoulder. “Thanks, Sev. What would I do without you?”

Severus’ expression was grim. “I do not want to think of it.”

Harry shuddered and slipped his hand into Severus’. “Yeah.”

Severus squeezed Harry’s fingers and draped his arm around the boy’s shoulders instead. “Come. We should go.”

“Yeah, all right.”

Harry let Severus lead him from the miniature glade, but frowned at the sight of a stranger standing at the edge of the alley, his mouth open in shock and tears rimming his eyes. It looked as though he had been frozen. Harry edged away from him, closer to Severus, taking his cues from the way Severus’ arm tightened on his shoulders and his wing wrapped around Harry’s back.

“P-pardon me,” Harry muttered and rushed away from the man. A few steps away, the man shook himself and raised his hand as if he wanted to speak, but at a look from Severus, he let it drop and turned away.

Harry whispered, “Who was that?”

“A bloody fool who is coming to realise the cost of his stupidity,” Severus muttered and steered Harry back towards the street.

“Is he dangerous?”

“He will not attack you.” Severus led Harry towards Fortescue’s again.

“You’re going to make me fat on all this ice cream, you know.”

Severus chuckled. “A little will do you no harm.”

“If you say so.” Harry settled in and dropped his books on the table he had left before.

“Harry, you do not need to eat if you are not hungry. I place you here because I know the owner will protect you, should it come to it. He is a good man, if rather too… sweet for my liking.”

Harry snorted. “It’s all the ice cream.”

“Indeed.” Severus smoothed the boy’s hair back. “Be safe?”

“I promise.”

Severus squeezed Harry’s shoulder and left.

“Well, time to get back to Arithmancy, I suppose.” Harry cracked his book open and sighed. “I hope Sev is right about the usefulness of these electives, because they sure are tough.” He focused on the words before him and tried to make some sense of the archaic formulae and strange symbols.

 

* * *

 

The shabby brown man, as Harry had taken to calling the stranger by the alley that day, had become an unwanted fixture in Harry’s life. The man popped up everywhere Harry went, hiding in shadows, pretending to read, or sitting in restaurants and ordering water and the cheapest item on the menu.

Obviously, the shabby brown man wanted Harry to think he had regular business in Diagon Alley, but Severus had taught Harry how to identify a stalker long ago, and Harry knew the man was shadowing him. As to why, he had no idea, but the man made him uncomfortable, and he began straying closer to other strangers in hopes it would keep his stalker from coming too close.

He supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t Black.

Harry hadn’t mentioned his stalker for fear Severus would take him away from Diagon Alley. He was having fun with his newfound freedom in spite of the shabby brown stalker and didn’t want to leave.

Harry should have realised by then that he could not keep secrets from a spy for long.

On the last morning of his stay before returning to Hogwarts, Hermione came out of the Magical Menagerie with a squashed-face orange tabby.

She cooed over his fuzzy, orange fur and gushed to the boys, “Isn’t he _gorgeous_?”

Harry wasn’t sure he’d use that word to describe her new pet, but he knew better than to do anything but nod and smile.

“The owner said he’s been there for ages. No one wanted him.”

Scabbers made a mad dash for Ron’s pocket. The cat growled.

“Can’t imagine why,” Ron muttered under his breath.

With an almighty yowl, the cat swiped at his pocket, catching Ron’s shirt and his hand in the process.

“Ow!” Ron shook his hand and gave the cat a dark look. “Keep that mad beast away from Scabbers, Hermione!”

“He’s _not_ a beast! He’s—”

Harry noticed the shabby brown man coming too close and plucked his friends’ sleeves. “Um, could we maybe just go get lunch now? I’m really hungry.”

Hermione tried to wrangle her cat back into her arms. “Um… maybe I should take him back to the inn first. He isn’t much happy about being held, I think.”

“Yeah, or maybe he just wants to eat my familiar, the furry demon,” Ron muttered.

She shot him a glare that meant nothing good for Ron and stalked off towards the Leaky, knocking the shabby brown stalker back in her hurry. “Oh, sorry, pardon me.”

The brown man nodded, but never took his eyes off Harry.

Harry shuddered and backed away. “Ron, let’s—can we go? Please?”

Ron frowned. “Harry? What’s up, mate?”

Harry whispered in Ron’s ear, “That man’s been following me for weeks. I just want to get away from him. He doesn’t have money, so I’ll buy you lunch at The Golden Gander—don’t fuss, it’s just to keep me safe. Please.”

Ron frowned harder. “Okay? He doesn’t look mean.”

“Maybe, but he’s still creepy. Let’s just go.”

“All right, all right. We’ll have to go by the Leaky and tell Hermione first, though.”

“Yeah.”

Harry guided Ron towards the inn, shivering as the brown man followed and moved as if he would grab Harry any moment. Frightened, Harry picked up the pace, almost running flat out, then stopped dead. Severus emerged from a corner and gave him a sharp look, and Harry knew he’d been caught.

“Damn,” he muttered and led Ron away.

Severus couldn’t talk to him as long as his friends were about, so Harry led Ron away in a hurry. He knew the yokai would keep his stalker away, and thank Merlin for that, but, bloody hell, he was in for it later. The thought left him shaking. Severus wouldn’t leave him over this, would he? Would he think Harry was a freak or a bad influence? ‘ _Bad blood will out.’_

No. Severus wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t abandon Harry for a stupid mistake, but he _would_ be hurt, and that hurt Harry. Damn. All he had wanted was a bit of freedom. Just to be _Harry_ for a little while, rather than the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. He hadn’t meant to hurt Severus in the process.

_‘I’m so sorry, Sev. You… you’ll understand, won’t you?’_

“Harry?”

Harry jolted and frowned at the realisation that he was staring after Severus. No one had noticed but Ron—yet—and the stalker had gone, but Harry was taking a risk like this. He had to pull it together, for Severus’ sake.

“Er… it’s nothing, mate. Let’s just go get Hermione and eat.”

“Right. Well, I won’t say no to The Gander. Never had it before.”

“To be honest, it’s a bit froufrou for our tastes—more Malfoy’s style—but at least it’ll be stalker-free.”

“Fair enough.”

 

* * *

 

That night, Harry overheard Missus Weasley and Mister Weasley talking and, thus, had a perfect excuse to tell his friends what he knew about Black without appearing to have an outside source. The only problem was acting as shaken up as if it was the first time he had heard it, and if he had not caught Hermione’s narrowed eyes as he related the information about Black’s vendetta against him, he would have thought he’d performed admirably. Damn. He would have to be careful around her. She was just too intelligent to keep secrets from for long.

A bit like one of his other friends, come to think of it. As soon as he remembered what awaited him after the discussion, he no longer had to pretend to be downcast and worried. Gods, what would Severus do?

It was with a nervous heart that Harry returned to his room that night, knowing Severus would be waiting inside.

“When, precisely, were you going to tell me that man was stalking you?”

Harry hugged his chest and sat down on the bed, his chest aching for Severus’ pain. “I-I’m sorry. You said he wasn’t dangerous, so I thought—”

“No, Harry. I said he wouldn’t _attack_ you. That does not mean there is no danger.” Severus sighed and sat beside him. “Harry, that man—I… if I’d realised he would do this. Gods.”

“Do you know him, Severus?”

Severus gave a bitter laugh. “One could say that. It’s Remus Lupin, Harry. The werewolf I told you about.”

Harry jerked up and hissed, “That bloody monster’s been tracking me for three weeks? _Why_?”

“I imagine because he overheard most of our conversation in the woods that day. He is a coward, Harry. He has probably been trying to gather the courage to speak to you all this time and failing miserably.”

“Or fabricating his story,” Harry muttered.

“That too.” Severus tugged Harry down beside him and held his shoulders. “Harry, you trust me, do you not?”

Harry dropped his head and nodded, tears of shame stinging his eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realise he was so… dangerous, and I just—I’ve never been _free_ before, Severus. I just didn’t want to leave. And I didn’t want to get in your way. I’m sorry.”

Severus sighed and wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Child, do you not know by now that nothing in my life is more important than your safety? Please, do not hide your fears from me again. Whether I must put aside my work, even if I must leave my position altogether, _you_ are more important. I can work as an aide to Albus if I must, or sell potions on my own. But I can never replace you.”

Harry nodded and wiped his eyes. “Is he really that dangerous?”

“On the full moon? Absolutely. Most days, however, I do not believe he would harm you. It is less that Lupin is stalking you that troubles me and more that you did not tell me about it. This time, I believe there is little danger to your person, but the next, we may not be so fortunate. Please, do not keep secrets from me, Harry. Least of all, secrets involving your safety.”

Harry winced and lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Sev.”

“You are forgiven, child. I believe tomorrow we shall begin to establish the story that a crow has ‘adopted’ you as his wizard of choice. Where is Hedwig?”

“Here. She likes sitting on the roof at night and looking for bats.” Harry whistled softly, and his familiar landed on the windowsill. He beckoned his owl onto his arm and petted her back. “Hello, girl. Severus wanted to talk to you, I think. Will you listen to him for me?”

Hedwig hooted and leapt onto Severus’ shoulder. She nuzzled his hair, and Severus rubbed his furry ears against her head, a gesture he often used to comfort animals he trusted.

“Hello there, little one,” he said in a soft voice. “There is someone who is stalking Harry whom neither of us trust. You know I am a spy, correct, and that I cannot be seen protecting him in public until the Dark Lord is defeated?”

Hedwig gave a soft whoo and bobbed her head.

“To circumvent the danger, I am going to assume my crow form and pose as a second familiar for Harry. In my Animagus form, I can watch over him without giving away my true loyalties. However, I have no intention of usurping your place. I only wish to guard Harry and keep him safe. Will you allow me to watch over him?”

Hedwig tugged his hair gently and nuzzled his cheek.

“That was a ‘thank you,’ I think,” said Harry with a smile. “So you’re going to be with me tomorrow?”

“As much as I can be, child. My presence will be required at the castle for the welcoming feast, so I must leave you at least ten minutes prior, but you will have Hedwig, Hermione, and Ron to keep you safe then.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re going to be with me. But why? What’s going on, Severus?”

Severus pulled Harry closer. “Besides Lupin, you mean?” His voice took on a breathy, haunted quality, and Harry felt him trembling against his side. “Harry, have I ever told you about the dementors?”

“No. What are they?”

Severus shuddered. “One of the foulest breeds of demons in existence, and I fear they are not as much under Ministry control as the government would like us to believe….”


	9. Harry Potter and the Cowardly Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This begins the point where the plot becomes too big to contain each year in one chapter. Since Harry's third year is only two chapters, I gave them both twists on the book names, but after this, you get the funny book name at the start of the next year and the rest are named according to the events contained within. This is Harry's third year up to Christmas. Enjoy._

#  **Chapter 9**

##  _Harry Potter and the Cowardly Wolf_

### 1 September, 1994

Ron and Hermione guided Harry and his ‘pet’ crow to the cubby where Lupin was sleeping, and Harry couldn’t feasibly tell them to choose another compartment without seeming as if he knew more than he should. The rest of the compartments were full anyway. Still, Harry sat as far away from the werewolf as possible.

“Let’s be quiet,” Harry whispered, pointing to the professor. “He looks knackered.” And keeping their voices low would give Lupin less chance to accost him.

Severus squeezed his crow feet on Harry’s shoulder, a little touch to let him know he had done well.

“All right,” said Ron, “but who is he? I could swear I’ve seen him recently.”

Harry barely suppressed a snort. _‘Like yesterday, you mean?’_

Hermione huffed. “Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Both boys gave Hermione a weary look.

She blushed and responded with a wry smile. “Well, it _is_ when you think of it. The only adults who ride on the train from time to time, other than the train staff itself, are professors. And the only position open is Defence. So he must be the new Defence instructor.”

Harry laughed softly. “Hermione, you’re a wizard.”

She snickered. “A _witch_ , thank you.” Her expression hardened into a scowl. “Though, to be fair, I think we should do away with both terms and come up with something based on our abilities rather than our gender. The terms witch and wizard are divisive, and the fact that the word ‘witch’ in the Muggle world has negative connotations is sexist as well. Come to think of it, the word ‘Muggle’ is problematic too, and—”

Ron nudged her shoulder. “We’re supposed to be keeping our voices _down_ , remember? If you get on one of your crusades again, he won’t sleep long.”

She shot him a dark look. “It’s not a _crusade_ , Ron.”

“But he does have a point,” said Harry with a sheepish smile. “You do tend to get loud when you talk about injustices. I agree with you, but this isn’t the place to talk about it.”

“Oh, all right.” She subsided with a pout and petted Crookshanks’ head. The cat never took his eyes off of Ron’s pocket, where Ron had sealed in Scabbers so he wouldn’t be hurt or run away. “Have you lot decided on what electives you’ll take?”

Harry nodded. “I chose Arithmancy, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes.”

“Oi, I thought we were taking Divination together,” Ron complained.

Harry rubbed his scar and gave him a pained look. “I think I’ve had more than enough of prophecies and portents found in a teacup, thanks. We’ll be together for COMC, won’t we?”

“And you could always take a couple of _academic_ classes, Ron,” said Hermione with a grin.

“Not on your life,” Ron returned, laughing under his breath. “I’m not so good at studying and books and such. But I do like animals. So yeah, we’ll be in COMC together. All of us, right?”

Hermione stuck her nose in the air. “Of course. _I’m_ taking everything.”

“ _Everything_?”

The boys’ stunned reply caused the sleeping professor to snort, snuffle, and turn over. He resumed snoring a moment later.

Ron whispered, “ _Everything,_ ‘Mione?” He shuddered. “Are you mad? That’s, what? About five extra classes?”

“Six,” said Hermione with a blush. “It’s… well, it won’t be _easy_ , but it’s worth it to learn everything our world has to offer, isn’t it?”

Ron shook his head wryly. “I’ll settle for my little piece of knowledge, thanks.”

“And I think I’m taking a good balance without overwhelming myself,” said Harry.

“Well, I’ll just have to share the interesting bits with you,” said Hermione with a wink.

Harry chuckled. “Sure, but wait. Does ‘everything’ include Muggle Studies?”

“Of course.”

“But you’re Muggle _born_ ,” Ron protested. “You already know everything there is to know about Muggles.”

“Well, of course I don’t know _everything_. Besides, it’ll be fascinating to learn about them from the wizarding world’s point of view.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I want to know how much they’ve gotten wrong—how much is bias and lies and how much is simply ignorance, so I know how to fix it later.”

Harry patted her shoulder. “That’s a good goal. I’ll help where I can too, though I’m not taking Muggle Studies. Merlin, I’ve had more than enough of them as is.”

“Your Muggles are berks,” Hermione agreed. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to take it. But my parents are good people, and I want them to be able to visit me without having trouble with our kind one day.”

“In that case,” said Ron with a sad smile, “I can see why you’d want to take it. Your parents are really nice. Though I thought Dad would drive your father mad with all his talk of plugs and elecentrity and such.”

“Electricity,” said Harry and Hermione at once.

“My point exactly.”

Harry chuckled softly. “He is rather obsessed. But he’s nice too.” He leaned in and whispered, “But guys, we have more important things to worry about. I heard scary things in Diagon Alley this morning while you were packing up. Have you ever heard of dementors?”

Hermione shuddered. “The foul beasts that guard Azkaban prison? What about them?”

“Well, the Ministry knows Sirius Black is after me. So they… they posted dementors as guards around Hogwarts.”

Hermione gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god. They sent those evil things to _Hogwarts_?”

Harry nodded grimly. “That’s what I heard. They’re supposed to be there to guard the school and catch Sirius Black if he shows up, but the couple I overheard talking are worried. They don’t think the dementors are in Ministry control enough to trust.”

“Well of course they’re not,” Hermione hissed. “They’re _demons_ , not humans. They don’t have our sense of morality. They see food, they go after it. It’s that simple. And _we’re_ their food.”

“Blimey,” said a white-faced Ron. “What do we—”

Crookshanks suddenly stood and arched his back, his fur making him grow to three times his normal size and his tail straight out behind him. He let out a low yowl and stared, eyes wide, at the windows.

“Crook?” Hermione tried to soothe him, but the beast refused to be calmed.

Harry whispered, “Merlin, what’s gotten into him?”

“I don’t know. He’s scared of something.”

“I don’t blame him.” Ron shuddered and rubbed his shoulders. “Dear gods. I-is it cold in here suddenly, or is it just me?”

Harry frowned, having just noticed a chill himself. “I thought it was just because we were talking about scary stuff.”

“No,” said Hermione, and gasped at the way her breath frosted the air. “Merlin. I don’t think it should be _this_ cold even if the temperature control has gone out. Not at this time of year.”

Severus’ claws—Xerxes’ claws—pinched Harry’s shoulder and pulled him towards Lupin. Towards the windows. A sharp caw rang out through the compartment the next instant, and Lupin woke with a start.

“Wh-what? Who…?” The werewolf snorted and rubbed his eyes. “Merlin, why is it so cold?”

“Professor,” Hermione pleaded, “something’s wrong. What’s going on?”

Lupin blinked a few times, then the fog cleared and he leapt to his feet, wand out. “Dementors. Gods, I thought this might happen.” He gave the children a weak smile. “Right, so the charm to drive away dementors is _Expecto Patronum_. You have to think of your happiest memory. So, go on, children. Let’s see—”

Xerxes swooped at Lupin’s head, an angry caw in his throat.

“Professor,” Hermione squawked, “that’s a high NEWT level charm and we’re third years! Don’t you think you ought to be the one to cast it?”

“If you can find your bollocks in time, that is,” Harry muttered and moved his head out of the way so Xerxes could land on his shoulder again.

Lupin coughed. “Er, well, I just thought it would be good to have help—”

“ _Professor_!” Hermione screeched and pointed to the window. “They’re _here_! This is not the time!”

“Shite.” Lupin turned away and faced the window, his complexion pale as putty. Merlin, if _this_ was their only defence against literal soul-sucking demons, they were fucked.

Harry jerked his wand out and struggled to find a positive memory with despair crowding him on all sides and terror turning his blood to ash. Dark eyes laughing with him. Warm hugs and soft wings wrapping him up. But the images shifted and morphed, and all his happiness fled. He tried to focus, tried not to feel the way Xerxes’ feet trembled on his shoulder or the way his feathers had fluffed out in all directions. Or to hear Crookshanks spitting and hissing. Or to listen to the memories playing havoc in his mind.

_“Not Harry!”_

_Memory-Riddle stared Harry down and laughed, and the terrible pain in his skull, his chest, his ribs began to ease. “You are just like me.”_

_A slender, strong arm, dusted with dark hair and tipped in sharp claws, slammed in front of Harry’s. A long fang tore through the sensitive flesh, and Severus’ scream ripped Harry’s heart in two._

_“Severus, no!”_

_Harry stood over Severus’ still form, sobbing in his hair and begging him to wake up, not to leave him alone forever._

A black form, too still, too cold, dropped from Harry’s shoulder and down his front. Harry barely caught him in time.

“ _Xerxes_!” He summoned the presence of mind to refer to Severus by his Animagus name, somehow, and cradled his friend’s form against his chest. “Oh gods, is he dead?”

“ _Expecto Patronum_!” A huge wolf erupted from Lupin’s wand and bounded around the compartment, driving a black-cloaked figure back. And another. And another. With a howl, the creatures soared away, taking the cold and bad memories and terror and despair with them.

About fucking time.

Harry cradled Xerxes to his chest and cried, “Help me!”

Lupin fixed his eyes on the crow, sniffed, and paled. “Take him to the back. I can’t treat him here.”

Harry understood by the way his eyes flicked to Hermione and Ron. Lupin knew the bird was Severus, and the man would need to take his human form before Lupin could heal him. But….

Harry gave the man a dark look. “Hurt him, and I swear to god, I’ll kill you.”

Lupin reeled back. “I… I don’t intend to hurt him.”

“Good.”

Harry carefully carried Severus to the back of the train, where there was an emergency recovery room. All around the train, adults scurried back and forth, distributing what looked like chocolate among the children. He kept an eye on Lupin the entire time, not liking that he had to follow the man to a place he didn’t know, where he wouldn’t have anyone to watch over him, but Severus’ need was more pressing.

The trolley witch shoved a bar of Honeydukes’ best in both of their hands. “Eat it. It helps drive the Dementors’ poison away.”

Harry nibbled his. “M-might I have one more for my friend, please?”

“Yes, of course.” She passed him another bar and raced off towards a compartment of sobbing first years. “Here you are, dears. Chocolate makes it less scary, hmm?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the professor. “Why chocolate?”

Lupin shrugged. “It has powers to combat despair and fear, which is what dementors cause in their victims. Endorphins, or something like that. Either way, it truly _does_ help. Eat it. We will treat your friend as soon as it is safe.”

Harry nodded and swept away towards the back of the train. Once inside, he shut the emergency compartment’s doors behind them and glared at Lupin. “Can I trust you with this? We certainly couldn’t trust you with our safety. Are you man enough to help me with _his_?”

Lupin’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Harry, but I never intended to hurt you.”

Harry scowled. “No, just _him_.”

“Harry, I—”

“Save it. I don’t have time for cowards and bullies. Just help him.”

Lupin cringed. “I’m not a—”

“Stop wasting time trying to win me over! Just shut up and _save_ him already!”

Lupin breathed in harshly and blinked hard. “ _A-Animagus Reverto_.” Blue light glowed around Severus’ crow form. Severus changed shape and grew in Harry’s arms until he lay across Harry’s lap, unconscious, but breathing.

“Gods.” Harry stroked Severus’ hair and ears. “It’s okay, Sev. I’m here. It’s all right.”

“ _Rennervate_ ,” Lupin whispered, and Severus’ eyes jerked open.

“Harry!” Tears bled down the man’s cheeks as he grabbed Harry’s face and patted his cheeks, as if to reassure himself he was real. “I saw—the spell, the Dark Lord came for you and I—I could do nothing.”

Harry pressed Severus into his arms and held him tight. “Ssh. It was just a nightmare, Sev. I’m okay. It’s all right.”

“So afraid I had lost you forever.”

“It’s over now. Ssh. I had bad memories of losing you too. Gods, you had better never stick your arm in another basilisk’s mouth for me.”

Lupin gasped, and Severus jerked up, wand held at the ready.

“ _You_. What do you want?”

Lupin squeaked, “A _basilisk_?”

“Yes, a basilisk.” Harry guided Severus to sit and eased his wand arm down. “Easy, Sev. He saved you. There was no other choice. I didn’t know what to do. I do now, though, so there won’t be a need to do this again in the future.” He passed the extra bar of chocolate into Severus’ hand. “Eat.”

Once Severus had reluctantly begun nibbling on the chocolate, Harry turned to Lupin with a cold look. “Thank you for your help. You can go now.”

Lupin winced. “Harry, I’ve been trying to—I just want you to know that I—”

“Honestly, Lupin, I really don’t care. You’re a terrible example of a Gryffindor, and a human being in general. Just go.”

Lupin gasped, “But, Harry, y-you don’t know the whole story, and what Severus told you is—”

Harry’s eyes went hard and cold. “I trust Severus with my life. Unlike you. Get _out_ , before I start cursing. And I don’t mean with _words_.”

“But—”

“I believe he has made his wishes clear, Lupin,” Severus snarled. “If you do not listen to them this _instant_ , Harry will not be the only one cursing you.”

Lupin growled at Severus, and, at the sight of fear in his friend’s dark eyes, Harry made good on his threat.

“ _Coles Adtenuo_.” Yellow light centred on Lupin’s groin and made the werewolf yelp.

“I suggest you attend to that before it becomes permanent,” said Harry with a sharp smile.

“T-ten points from Gryffindor,” Lupin snarled and ran away.

Harry smirked. “Worth it. Totally worth it.”

Behind him, Severus burst into shocked laughter. “You… you shrunk his penis. You _actually_ shrunk his penis.”

Harry grinned. “A gift from the twins.” A wry chuckle escaped him. “It was the first non-lethal thing that came to mind.”

Severus laughed helplessly and brought Harry into a hug. “You brilliant, brave, lovely boy. Thank you.” He kissed Harry’s temple. “Are you all right?”

“A little shaken up. Why did they attack us, Severus? Was it simply because they wanted food, or…?”

Severus winced. “I fear it may be _or_.”

“Yeah. I was afraid of that too.”

 

* * *

 

Lupin assigned Harry detention for cursing a teacher, though really, it was an excuse for the wolf to try to convert Harry back to his side. Harry sat through it stoically while the werewolf poured out his life story, how he was afraid of losing his friends, and Harry could understand that, couldn’t he?

Harry gave him a cold, disgusted look. “Before Severus, I didn’t _have_ any friends. And Severus risks his life every single moment just to take care of me. So, no, I don’t understand your cowardice, and I hope I never do.”

Lupin sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We’ll speak again this Wednesday.”

“You’ll have to get in line. I already have detention with Professor Snape Wednesday, and I’m afraid I’d much rather spend my time mucking out his cauldrons than listening to you complain about the miseries life has dumped on your poor ickle head.”

“Thursday then,” Lupin said with a scowl. “Go.”

“I thought you’d _never_ ask.” Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and stalked out. Ten steps from the door, he threw on his invisibility cloak and backtracked towards the dungeons. “Self-centred, miserable, whingy little prig! How that idiot got sorted Gryffindor is beyond me.”

Severus let Harry in with a wry smile and shut the door behind him. “Long night?”

Harry scoffed and tossed off his cloak, pacing the office and muttering obscenities under his breath. Severus just watched, his eyes full of alternating amusement and sympathy.

“That… that egotistical, pathetic little _twit_ spent the entire detention moaning about his fate to _me_! For gods’ sake, I’m a thirteen-year-old boy who’s the prime target of every Death Eater in the country. I’ve been attacked by Riddle himself—three bloody times—a mountain troll, a basilisk, and now the bloody Dementors have it in for me, and he thinks I’ll care that he got bitten by a werewolf? So fucking what? We all have problems. That doesn’t give him the excuse to cower and hide when his ‘friends’ turn into monsters. It doesn’t give him the right to stand by and watch people be abused, when he _knows_ it’s wrong, and do nothing!” He huffed and flopped into the seat by his friend. “Gods, this year is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”

Severus gave him a wry smile and rubbed his shoulder. “Forgive me, little one.”

“No, don’t you apologise too! I’ve heard enough of that tonight. ‘Forgive me, Harry,’ this, and ‘I just wanted to be accepted,’ that, and ‘you understand what it means to be alone, don’t you?’ Ugh! That shitehead can ask me what it means to be alone when he’s been shoved into the cupboard and locked away by his only remaining relatives, his friends nowhere in sight, except the one person who’s always been by his side.”

Harry leaned his head on Severus’ chest and sighed. “Thank you, for never letting me _really_ be alone.”

Severus tightened his grip around Harry’s shoulders and wrapped him in his wings. “I never will.”

 

* * *

 

By three weeks into the term, most of the school was raving about how good the new Defence professor was. And, admittedly, Lupin _did_ know his stuff. Only the third year lions and badgers’ double class didn’t trust him, mainly because he never missed an opportunity to give Harry detention, sometimes more than one per class. And Harry never did anything to deserve it.

“I don’t know why that man has it in for you,” Ron muttered as they left another fraught Defence lesson. “I swear, he’s worse than Professor Snape. At least Snape only punishes you when you get mouthy or mess up your potion.”

Harry neglected to mention he acted defiantly in Severus’ class on purpose so the man would have an obvious reason to give him as many detentions as he did.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, her expression tense with worry. “I think we should discuss it with the Headmaster, Harry. He’s obviously biased. And it’s not good for you to be in detention so much. How are you keeping up with your studies?”

Harry couldn’t say that Severus helped him during detention either. “Um… well, I’ve never really slept well, so I have plenty of time at night.”

That was true enough. Especially this year. The nightmares kept getting worse and worse.

“That’s not healthy either,” Hermione said with a sigh.

“I know, but I can’t help it. Dreamless Sleep doesn’t help much. And I can’t take it every night anyway.”

Hermione shook her head sadly. “Well, we’ll just try to help you stay on top of things as much as we can, but—” She looked at her watch and paled. “Oh no! I’m late for Astronomy! I’ve got to go.”

Ron protested, “But it’s ten in the morning, ‘Mione!”

Hermione was already gone.

Harry shook his head and guided Ron towards the north tower. “Look, mate, we’ve got our own classes to get to. You’ve got Divination, and I have Arithmancy. We’ll worry about her later. Maybe she meant to say Arithmancy and is just a little overstressed.”

Ron frowned. “Yeah, maybe. Well, good luck with your maths, mate. Better you than me!”

He waved and dashed off towards the tower, leaving Harry chuckling behind him. A frazzled Hermione met him at the door, still tucking something golden within her robes.

“Hello, Harry. Sorry I’m a little behind.”

He frowned. “Did you forget you were just talking to us, ‘Mione?”

She blinked a few times. “Uh… _did_ I? Merlin, where is my head?”

“I reckon it’s bogged down with too many classes. Even without Divination, you’re driving yourself mad.”

She sighed and raked a hand through her hair. “You might be right. But what can I drop besides it, Harry?”

“You could do without Muggle Studies and just read the textbooks in your own time.”

“No, no. I can’t drop that. It’s far too important to my long-term goals.”

“Astronomy then? I don’t reckon legal workers have much use for it, and you can always read my notes if you take a fancy to it.”

“Maybe, but it’s so interesting.” She raked a hand through her hair and gave him a wan smile. “Well, I’ll be okay for now. Let’s go inside. Don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah.” Harry led his friend inside and worried they might all crack up before the end of the year.

 

* * *

 

The day was promising to be a royal pain in the arse already, and it was barely past lunch. First Malfoy milked his injuries for all they were worth in potions, forcing Harry to stir his Befuddling Brew for him—Harry barely resisted the urge to dump a ladle of the hot liquid on his lacquered head, see how the prat liked that—then Severus had been forced to take points because Harry’s potion hadn’t turned out while he had attended Malfoy’s, then Harry’s plea to McGonagall about his Hogsmeade form had failed, and to top it all off, he had Defence after lunch with the whinge-master himself. Even better, it was two days to the full moon, and Lupin was in a worse mood than usual.

Gods, Harry just knew this lesson was going to be awful.

Lupin had moved all the desks back against the walls, leaving a large, open space with an old wardrobe at the centre. Every so often, the wardrobe rattled on its hinges.

Great. A practical display. This would be interesting, to be sure.

Harry stood in the back, trying to blend with the walls and watching the wardrobe wobble and shake. Whatever Lupin had in there, he did _not_ want to meet it.

The werewolf came in, looking bedraggled and tired, and stood in front of the wardrobe with a wan smile. “Welcome, everyone. Now, today we’ll be doing practical defence, so if you have your books out, put them away.”

Everyone stared at the professor. Of course they didn’t have their books out. There was nowhere to put them.

“Right,” Lupin said as if he hadn’t noticed their confusion. “I’m sure you noticed the wardrobe shaking. Mister Filch was kind enough to loan me the… use of an unwanted guest he found lurking about the dungeons, and we’ll be sending him along his merry way today. This, class, is a boggart. Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?”

Of course, Hermione supplied the answer before anyone else had the chance to gather their wits. By the time she finished her first statement, Harry had remembered his lesson on boggarts with Severus from last year. And realised what the cost of facing one down in front of his entire class would be.

_Severus, lying on the ground, bleeding and dying, the aurors pointing their wands at him, ears and tail and wings revealed for all to see…._

Gods, no. Not only would it reveal the fact that Harry feared Severus’ death more than anything, but it would also reveal the truth about Severus’ race. Hell no. He couldn’t face that boggart. Not here. There had to be a way to get out of it because he knew, sure as day, Lupin would try to force him into it. The bastard had gotten it in his head if he put Harry on the spot enough and praised his skill with defence enough, it would break the ice on his heart. But Harry was not so easily won, and this disaster would end in innocent lives lost.

Fuck. He had to do something. But what?

“All right, now, let’s start with you, Seamus. What do you fear most?”

Seamus shuddered. “Um, big dogs. One bit me leg when I was a wee lad, and I’ve been afraid of them ever since.”

Harry shot Lupin a dark smile. Lupin pretended not to see it, but the slight wobble in his voice revealed his true emotions.

“O-oh. Well, the way to finish a boggart is laughter. Can you think of a way to make a vicious dog funny?”

Seamus cocked his head and frowned. “Oh! Yeah, I think I have an idea, sir.”

“Good. Now, the incantation to force a boggart back is ‘ _Riddikulus.’_ Say it with me, without your wands. Ready? _Riddikulus_! Excellent. Now, Seamus, step forward. I’m going to open this door, and I want you to be ready with whatever funny image you thought of. Keep it in your mind’s eye and, as soon as the boggart assumes the form of your worst fear, cast the charm. Ready?”

Seamus moved into position and steeled himself, wand out and shaking. “I t-think so.”

“Good. Not to worry, now. If you _do_ run into trouble, I’ll, of course, step in and take over. You won’t come to harm.”

Harry remembered how Lupin had handled the dementors on the train and decided he would believe that when he saw it.

Seamus gave a relieved sigh. “Okay. Then, I think I’m ready.”

“Right. One… two… three!”

Harry ducked behind the crowd and refused to lift his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as a snarling Rottweiler leapt from the wardrobe and growled at Seamus, slobber and lather dripping from his mouth, eyes red with madness.

Seamus aimed his wand and cried, “ _R-Riddikulus_!”

Pop! A gob of bubble gum appeared in the dog’s mouth, and it chomped at it helplessly, rage forgotten in the worry of trying to unstick his jaws. Harry couldn’t help a little giggle. Well, it _was_ rather funny.

“Well done,” said Lupin with a grin. “Who’s next? Ron, would you like to give it a try?”

Ron gulped and stepped forward. The Rottweiler shifted into an acromantula, fangs dripping venom, all eight eyes focused on him.

“ _Riddikulus_!”

Roller skates appeared on the spider’s feet and sent him sprawling. Harry covered a snort and a guffaw.

“Good one, mate,” he whispered when Ron moved back and Lavender stepped forward.

Ron beamed.

Lupin went through a few of the others, then called, “Harry, how about you give it a go? I’m sure yours would be wonderful.”

Every Gryffindor rolled their eyes, being used to this odd back and forth treatment by now.

“No,” Harry called out clearly. “I am not going anywhere near that thing.”

Lupin frowned. “Harry, I had thought you would be willing to face anything down. Not a _coward_ , are you?”

Harry snarled at the obvious attempt to bait him. “No, sir, not like someone else I know, but it just so happens I think it would _probably_ be a bad idea to cause Voldemort to materialise in your classroom! Especially since there’s no way to make that funny!”

At the sound of several screams and gibbers of fear, Lupin relented with a cough.

“Uh, well, perhaps you have a point. T-then, all right, who’s next? Neville?”

Neville whimpered. “Um, I know what I’m afraid of, but not how to make it funny.”

“Oh? Well, what are you afraid of, then? Perhaps I can help.”

Harry barely suppressed a growl at Neville’s squeak. “P-Professor Snape.”

Lupin locked eyes with Harry and gave him a wry smile. “Really? Well, perhaps you might try this….”

 

* * *

 

Severus watched Harry pace his floor and rant, torn between love for the boy who was so angry for his sake and pain over what had caused it. Tears rimmed Harry’s beautiful eyes and streaked his cheeks, and his shaking hands had clenched into white-knuckled fists. Severus wanted to pry his hands apart and hold them, to soothe his friend, but he knew Harry needed to vent at the moment, to get his anger out before it consumed him.

“The bastard. The utter bastard. He called me a coward, then, after all this time telling me he was sorry, blah-blah, he tells Neville to dress you up in a vulture hat and a bloody dress so the entire class can laugh at you! He should’ve sent Neville back and told him it wasn’t proper to make fun of other professors, but _no_ , he just couldn’t resist the opportunity to make you look bad in front of me. As if that would change my mind about you _or_ him! Gods, I want to strangle the prick!”

Severus had been hurt by the story, more so by the fact that Neville feared him above all others than Lupin’s egregious prank with his body. It was no worse than what he was used to.

And yet, Harry’s anger and pain for him made his heart swell. If nothing else, he had a staunch defender in this young boy, and someone whose loyalty would not be shaken, not by his father’s friend nor attempts to undermine Severus’ standing.

Then, he noticed Harry’s hands.

“Harry,” Severus called. “Child, you are bleeding.”

 Harry paused, confused, and unclenched his hands. “Oh. O-ow.”

“Come.” Severus patted the conjured sofa beside him and opened his arms. Harry came running and buried his head in Severus’ shoulder.

Gently, Severus took Harry’s hands one by one and healed his palms. “Now, tell me why you did not want to face the boggart. I know you are brave, so that had nothing to do with it. You have certainly faced worse.”

Harry whimpered and nuzzled closer. “It was _you_ , Severus. The minute I thought about my worst fear, I saw you lying on the ground. Your ears and wings and tail were out, and aurors were cursing you. You were dying, and there was nothing my healing could do to save you. I _couldn’t_. If I’d gone anywhere near that bloody boggart—it would have c-come true! I’d have lost you.”

“Oh, dear gods.” Severus cradled Harry on his lap and rocked him in his arms. “Ssh. It’s all right now. You did the right thing.”

“I t-told him I didn’t think it was a good idea to make Riddle appear. But really, I was just so scared of losing you. And I think he _knew_ it.”

Severus grimaced. “Let us hope not.”

“What if he did, Severus? What if this boggart thing was just a trick to make me reveal you by accident?”

Severus clutched Harry tighter, then guided him to stand and moved to the fire. “Come. We shall speak to Albus about this. Lupin is out of line.”

“Y-yeah. Thanks, Sev.”

“I will always protect you, little one.”

Harry buried his face into Severus’ side and hugged his waist. “I know.”

 

* * *

 

It took two more talks with Albus, from both Severus and Harry’s friends and peers, but after a couple of weeks, the constant detentions tapered off and Lupin’s boggart wardrobe disappeared. The man still assigned Harry weekly detentions for no reason at all, but Harry just tuned him out most of the time.

That night, he had another Lupin detention, and the man said something along the lines of, “I just want to be a part of your life.”

Patience exhausted, Harry’s stomach clenched in rage. “Do you? You have a funny way of showing it! You’ve been threatening my friends, forcing me to listen to you gripe for hours, and turning the one person who’s stood by me since before my birth into a bloody laughingstock. Oh _yes_ , great way to endear yourself to me, _Lupin_.”

“Watch your language, Harry. I’m your professor.”

“You certainly don’t act like one.”

Lupin’s cheeks coloured. “I… Harry, perhaps I’ve gone about this the wrong way, but all I want is a chance to establish a relationship with you. Really.”

“And I thought I’d made it abundantly clear I’m not interested.” Harry scoffed and slung his bag over his shoulder. “If you had wanted a relationship with me, maybe you should have done something about it before now, as I know perfectly well you knew where I lived these past thirteen years. Where were you then, _Professor_?”

“H-Harry, please, I—”

Harry scoffed and moved towards the door. “Just leave me alone. Nothing you do or say is going to change my opinion of you. You’ve proven you don’t have the spine, heart, or maturity to act like a decent person or a decent professor, and my opinion of you can’t possibly go any lower without making yourself into another dark lord, so I don’t see any reason to keep attending these daily bitch-and-moan sessions. Good _bye_ , Professor.”

“Mister _Potter_ ,” Lupin snarled, “you _will_ show me the respect I deserve.”

“Yes, I will. And I’m going to start right now.” Harry flipped him a two-fingered salute and walked out.

 

* * *

 

Albus assigned him a real detention for his behaviour, with Professor McGonagall, thankfully, but Harry didn’t mind writing lines. Better that—or just about anything, really—than listening to Lupin whinge about his misfortune and try to weasel his way into Harry’s life. To his relief, Albus had also interceded there and made it clear to Lupin that he was not to assign Harry any further detentions with himself. If Harry acted out of turn in class—and the other students could verify it—then Lupin could assign him detention with one of the other staff members, but never again with himself. Thank Merlin for small favours.

It had been a great day, even with knowing he wouldn’t be going to Hogsmeade with everyone else in the morning. If not for that, it would have been perfect.

And the twins made it so that night when they gave him the Marauder’s Map. Harry was less than amused by the makers’ egotistical manner, but he couldn’t deny the thing was dead useful.

The next morning, Harry stood in front of the one-eyed witch statue, hidden under the cloak and watching the map form the spell to let him pass. He hesitated before saying the words, knowing Severus would not be pleased, but he had no intention of causing trouble. He only wanted to see the town and have Ron buy some sweets for them, maybe pick up a few owl order catalogues for Christmas. He still hadn’t any clue what to get Severus, but he wanted it to be something nice, to let the tengu know how much he appreciated him.

He’d never find it unless he at least _tried_ to leave the castle once in a while.

He used this thought to justify the trip to himself and whispered the spell. “ _Dissendium_.”

The one-eyed witch’s hump split down the middle, forming a door, and Harry climbed inside.

“Mischief managed.”

 

* * *

 

Severus flew the skies, disguised as Xerxes, and watched the crowds for trouble. But… wait. There, by the sweets shop. Harry. The boy was hidden under his cloak and sandwiched between his two best friends, one looking disapproving and the other amused. Worried, he watched as Harry went into shop after shop, staying well-hidden and passing money to Ron or Hermione for things he wanted to purchase.

Severus would be having a chat with the boy when he returned to the castle, but as long as Harry stayed out of sight, he didn’t mind letting him have a look around the town. It wasn’t fair that he hadn’t been able to come, and Severus could guard him like this. Perhaps he would suggest Harry come under the cloak with himself next time.

Then, the trouble started. Harry spotted Malfoy and his thugs throwing rocks at a stray dog—or rather, Malfoy’s goons threw the rocks and Malfoy himself stood by, looking ill and upset. In retaliation and to stop Crabbe and Goyle from hurting the dog, Harry started a mud-slinging contest. Literally. As satisfying as it was to see the hulking prats drowned in gobs of foul-smelling, slimy goop, the fact that Harry had finished the show by sticking his head out of his cloak—and only his head—had ended Severus’ patience with the charade.

He zoomed down to Harry and landed on his shoulder with a quiet caw. Harry took one look at him and flushed in shame.

“Shite.”

_‘Indeed, Mister Potter.’_

Harry sighed and pulled his cloak back over his head, draping it over Severus as well. “Okay. I’m going home. I’m sorry, Xerxes.”

Severus pinched his shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to let him know he was in trouble.

Harry grimaced and made his way back towards the castle, through a secret tunnel in Honeydukes Severus had never known existed. He reassumed his human form a few steps from the witch’s hump and yanked the hood off Harry’s face.

“ _Mister_ Potter. Would you like to tell me why Malfoy reported seeing your head in Hogsmeade when you were not to be there at all?”

“I… I… maybe he was seeing things, professor?”

Severus understood Harry was acting in character as they were in public and steered him towards his office. “I expect a _truthful_ answer, Mister Potter. _Now_.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said miserably and trudged after Severus.

Once the door closed behind them, Severus sat Harry down and loomed. Harry needed to know he had broken Severus’ trust this time, and it wasn’t something that would be fixed with an apology.

But Harry broke into tears at the sight of him, and Severus’ heart cracked.

“I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean for the cloak to come off. When I tripped Goyle, it caught on his foot and came down.”

“You shouldn’t have gone to Hogsmeade at all, Harry. Especially with a murderer on the loose and looking for you. It was foolhardy and dangerous. You risked everything and broke my trust for a bag of sweets, a trip around town, and a prank on Malfoy et al. Is it worth it?”

“No,” Harry whispered. “No, not if I hurt you. Gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t think it was that bad.”

Severus nodded sharply. “I believe that. You didn’t think of the consequences at all, did you?”

Harry slumped over and whimpered. “No, sir.”

“Do you understand what might have happened? You might have been killed. I might have lost you!” Severus cupped Harry’s face and forced him to look up. “Do you know what I see when I face a boggart? _You_ , lying dead at my feet, and there is nothing I can do to save you.”

Tears poured over his hands. “S-Sev!” Harry threw his arms around Severus’ waist and crashed into him, weeping in his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know, child. I know.” Severus smoothed Harry’s hair and rubbed his back. “Ssh. It’s all right now. I forgive you.”

Harry looked up, wiping his face. “You do?”

“Yes. But you will have a _real_ detention for this, Harry. I love you, but you must learn to think before you act.”

Harry sniffled and wiped his eyes. “O-okay. I really am sorry, Sev.”

“I know, child.” Severus brushed Harry’s tears away. “Now, will you tell me how you got into Hogsmeade and learned of that tunnel?”

Harry flinched. “I… please don’t punish them?”

Severus groaned. “The Weasley twins?”

“Er… yes. Sort of. They gave me this.” Harry took out the map and activated it. “It shows all of Hogwarts. And all the people within.”

Severus took the map and examined it. “This is fascinating. A powerful piece of charms work, to be sure. And dangerous. Should this fall into the wrong hands….”

Harry flinched. “I didn’t think of that either. But anyone who stole it would also need the password to use it, so there is that.”

“Hmm. How do you turn it off?”

“You say, ‘mischief managed.’”

Severus nodded and watched as the map went blank. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

The map activated once more, revealing all of the school and the students milling about. One name, however, made Severus’ heart leap into his throat.

“Harry, are you certain this map is accurate?”

Harry shook his head. “I haven’t had it long enough to test it. Why?”

“Look.” Severus pointed to the Entrance Hall, where the students had started returning from Hogsmeade. And directly beside Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger was….

“ _Pettigrew_? But… he’s _dead_ , isn’t he?”

“So I thought….”

 

* * *

 

Severus’ mad dash to the Entrance Hall revealed nothing but students, and yet, the sight of that name on the map would not leave him alone. How could Pettigrew have been in the castle? And even if he wasn’t, why, of all people, would the map choose to display _that_ name? The name of a man who had been dead for over twelve years? It just didn’t make any sense.

Something strange was afoot, and Severus was going to find the answers— _before_ they threatened Harry’s life this time.

So, that night, he settled in to watch. Pettigrew’s name followed Weasley to bed, but he knew if the man had truly been in the Gryffindor dorms, Harry would have come running. Either Pettigrew’s name had somehow attached itself to Ron—but wait. No, Pettigrew was moving. Ron was in bed—probably sleeping—but Pettigrew’s footprints tracked to the door, through the common room, and out into the corridors.

Damn. Severus tracked the name to the fifth floor corridor, but the minute he came near, the footprints scurried away in the opposite direction. More, if Pettigrew _had_ been in the castle, Severus should have been close enough to see him, and definitely close enough to smell him even if he had made himself invisible. He smelled nothing but dust, the lingering odours of students, and a slight whiff of castle rats.

Severus checked the map once more, frustrated, and nearly fainted at the sight of another name that should not be there.

Sirius Black. And he was outside Gryffindor Tower.

“Fuck! _Expecto Patronum_!” The memory of the first time Harry had said he loved Severus made his doe appear. “Go straight to Albus. Black is in the castle and almost atop Harry. Sound the alarms, I am after him now. _Go_!”

As soon as the doe turned to leave, Severus dashed for the staircases, using his wings to move faster.

But by the time he arrived, Black had gone, and Harry was safe.

The Fat Lady, however, had seen better days.

 

* * *

 

The incident in the boys’ dorm left Harry shaken. That night, he had wanted desperately to contact Severus, to let him know he was okay, to warn him about trouble, but he had no means of long-distance communication. He shared this with Severus during his _real_ detention—and scrubbing flobberworm guts out of cauldrons was disgusting enough to convince Harry never to make Severus angry again—and Severus had decided to teach Harry to cast a Patronus. To actually teach him, not that sad excuse for a ‘lesson’ Lupin had attempted on the train. Besides, with dementors all over the castle, common sense demanded that Harry know how to defend against them.

“Think, Harry. Your _happiest_ memory. Not something simply good, but something _life-changing._ A moment that defined happiness for you like no other.”

Harry looked to Severus and smiled, knowing then what memory he wanted to use. _“Expecto Patronum_!” Rather than the pathetic stream of shapeless mist, a cloud of white smoke poured from his wand, taking the vague shape of something with four legs and long protrusions on its head.

Severus beamed even as the mist faded. “Well done, Harry. That is excellent for a first lesson. Whatever memory you chose, keep using it.”

Harry put his hand in Severus’ and smiled back. “It was the day we went to the park together in my second year summer after we cleared up all those plagues. We sat and watched clouds, and I got to hear what you sound like when you really laugh. That was my happiest memory. Seeing you happy.”

Severus kissed Harry’s forehead and hugged him close to his heart. “You are a wonder, child.” He pulled back with a soft smile on his face and tears lining his eyes. “Again. Show me what you can do.”

Harry focused on the sound of Severus’ laughter, rich, warm, deep, and unrestrained, and poured his power into his wand. “ _Expecto Patronum_!”

 

* * *

 

It was harder, Harry soon discovered, to produce a Patronus—or even a mist—in the presence of dementors. They had swarmed him at the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor quidditch match—so many, he hadn’t been able to stay conscious. The last thing he remembered was struggling to focus on the sound of Severus’ laughter over his mother’s final screams.

He opened his eyes with a jerk and found Severus sleeping next to him, moonlight spilling over his hair and turning his ears white. Harry lifted a bruised, but mercifully whole hand to stroke his ears, loving the feel of his soft fur under his fingertips. Really, just loving this yokai and his unflinching devotion to Harry.

“Hey, Sev,” Harry whispered, and Severus’ head jerked up.

“Harry,” he murmured, relief painted all over his face. “You are back.”

Harry grimaced. “How long was I out?”

“Three days.” Severus squeezed his hand. “The fall—it was terrible. We tried to slow your descent, but all of us were fighting the thrall of dementors too. I… I tried, but I am… weak to their powers. Gods, I—I am so sorry, Harry. I failed you. I knew you were falling, and I could not even keep myself upright, let alone you. Please, forgive me.”

Harry tugged Severus closer until the yokai was lying beside him, wings wrapped around Harry and arms holding him tight.

“It is not your fault, Severus. Are you okay? Did they hurt you this time?”

Severus shuddered. “There were so many. I am afraid I did fall unconscious again, and it took several moments to revive me.”

Harry stroked Severus’ ear and hair. “Is it because you’re part….” He touched the yokai’s wings to make his meaning clear without endangering his friend.

“No. Those with that particular trait are generally strong against Dementors. It is simply that my life has been… so painful.”

Harry kissed Severus’ forehead and held him tight. “Not anymore.”

“No,” Severus whispered. “Gods, what would I do without you?”

“I don’t want to think of it.”

Severus buried his face in Harry’s shoulder. “Neither do I.”

“Sev? Did my… my broom…?”

Severus grimaced. “Child, it was all we could do to save you. Your broom flew into the Whomping Willow. I’m afraid there is not much left of it.”

Harry sighed, but let his disappointment fade quickly. The Dursleys had taught him never to be too attached to possessions. People, on the other hand, he loved hard and never let go.

“I shall help you purchase a new broom soon, little one. No fear. As much as it alarms me, I know you love to fly.”

“It’s the only time I feel free, Sev.” Harry smiled softly. “Except for when you’re with me.”

“I love you, too, Harry.” Severus moved away and kissed Harry’s forehead. “Sleep. I shall return later.”

Harry nodded and let the comfort of Severus’ presence guide him into dreams.


	10. Harry Potter and the Flea-Bitten Mutt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The latter half of Harry's third year. Just for a reminder, I'm using the same speech conventions as I did in Longing of the Soul._   
>  _~This indicates Parseltongue dialogue.~_   
>  _[This indicates Legilimency or mental communication.]_   
>  _Hope that helps keep things clear for you. Enjoy._

#  **Chapter 10**

##  _Harry Potter and the Flea-Bitten Mutt_

### 25 December, 1994

Harry woke Christmas morning to find a pile of presents at the foot of his bed, including a box wrapped in silver and gold about as tall as Harry was. It was long and skinny, and Harry’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of it. He knew who had sent it by the paper—Severus always sent him gifts in metallic paper with no cards—and he had a good idea of what it might be by the shape.

Ron gasped at the sight of it. “Harry, is that… what I think it is?”

Harry grinned. “Let’s open it together and find out!”

Ron gave him a bright nod and raced to his side, helping him tear off the paper and ribbons. And, in a long white box, sat the same broom Harry had admired again and again in Diagon Alley earlier in the year.

“A _Firebolt_?” Ron’s voice had gone up to a pitch only dogs could hear. “Sweet _Merlin_! Harry, someone _really_ loves you. Who sent it? Where did it come from? _Can I try it_?”

Harry laughed and playfully nudged his friend. “Of course you can. And….” His smile softened. “I know exactly who sent it, and he does love me. So let’s go try it out!”

“Don’t you want to see what else you got?” By Ron’s pout, Harry knew he meant his own gift to Harry.

“Oops. I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me.” He turned and dug into the pile of gifts, finding mostly what he expected, but Ron had surprised him.

“A _book_?” Harry laughed and knocked shoulders with him. “Did Hermione put you up to this?”

Ron chuckled and turned red. “N-no, it’s just that you said you wanted to learn more about potions. Mum’s really good, and she has a lot of household recipes she made up. Those are hers, and she said I could share them with you. It’s from both of us, though of course, you’ve also got the frogs from me and the jumper from Mum.”

Harry’s heart swelled and his breath caught. “Oh, Ron. Really? Your mum made these recipes? Oh… that’s brilliant. Thank you, and thank your mum too.”

“Do it yourself, prat. She gave them to me because she thinks of you as a son. She loves you. So you should tell her thank you for it.”

Tears blurred Harry’s vision and joy flooded his chest. “Oh. Y-yeah, okay. I will.” He grinned and wiped his eyes. “Does that make us brothers?”

“You bet it does. And brothers share, so…?”

Harry laughed and pulled Ron to his feet. “Come on, then. Let’s go fly.” He set the book down on his pillow lovingly and smoothed the cover. “Thanks, Mum,” he whispered, and ran out to test the skies.

 

* * *

 

Severus watched Harry fly from the library windows, smiling to himself. The boy had such talent and his joy was contagious. Severus’ heart swelled with pride at the knowledge that he had given it to him, even if he had had to sell his only gold cauldron and live on second-rate coffee for months. It was worth it, to see Harry so happy.

Minerva stood beside him and frowned at the sight of the boy zooming about. “Merlin, is that a Firebolt?”

Severus nodded. “I fear Slytherin will have no chance now.”

Minerva gave a wry chuckle. “Not with Harry on _that_ , but where did it come from? He couldn’t have bought such a broom himself. Not while stuck in the castle, to be sure.”

“I am certain it was a Christmas gift.”

“From _whom_? None of his compatriots could afford such an expenditure.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Severus, do you think Black might have sent it? Could it be jinxed?”

Severus frowned. “Obviously not. He is flying without issue.”

“But what if it does not take effect until later? At a quidditch match, perhaps, where it might harm more than one person. Merlin, Harry will be furious, but I think we must examine that broom before we let him—”

Severus laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t. It is safe.”

“How would you know?”

Severus closed his eyes. “I cannot say for the sake of our safety, but trust me. Please.”

Minerva gave him a searching look, and after a moment, relented with a nod. “I know you do not hate him as you must pretend to do,” she whispered to him. “I assume you have already verified the source?”

Severus gave her a curt nod.

“Very well. If you are sure it is safe, then we shall let him fly.” Minerva gave him a wry smile. “And not only because this means he will almost certainly bring home the cup this year.”

“So long as the Dementors stay away from the pitch,” Severus muttered under his breath.

Minerva scowled at the dark shapes hovering around the periphery of Hogwarts’ wards. “Indeed.”

 

* * *

 

By lunchtime, all of Harry’s friends had taken a spin on the Firebolt. Even Hermione had been willing to give it a go, once Harry assured her he knew where it came from and it was safe. She hadn’t gone far, but she had enjoyed her short trip around the pitch and said she could see why the boys enjoyed it so much, even if flying wasn’t her _thing_. Harry was just relieved she hadn’t questioned him further.

Until it occurred to him that maybe she already _knew_ , and maybe Harry hadn’t been as discreet about Severus as he thought.

He worried about it all the way to the Great Hall, debating whether he should just tell her, at least about his friendship with Severus, if not about Severus’ true race. No, better to ask Severus himself what to do first. He would know.

With that settled, Harry sat down to the communal holiday table and shot Severus a glare. Several times in a row. The yokai would understand this was ‘code’ for _“I need to talk.”_ Severus glared back, assuring Harry he understood. Relieved, he began to pile his plate with food, but stopped halfway through as a group of owls came into the hall carrying a long, thin package. Harry flashed back to first year and gave McGonagall a bemused look, but she looked just as confused.

The birds dropped the package in Harry’s lap and flew away. One looked like a tropical bird instead of an owl. Harry gave Severus a bemused look, but the man pretended not to see it. Severus hadn’t sent it then. Merlin. There was no card either.

“Uh, mate?” Ron leaned in to whisper, “Is that another broomstick?”

Harry shrugged. “One way to find out, I guess.”

He opened the paper, and his jaw nearly unhinged. It was a Firebolt— _another_ Firebolt.

“Um….” He passed the box to Ron. “Happy Christmas, I guess?”

Ron’s mouth fell open. “What?” It came out in a squeak. “You… _really_?”

“Well, I don’t need two, do I?”

“Oh gods, mate! This is brilliant! I can’t wait to try—”

“Hold that thought, Mister Weasley.” McGonagall stood and took the broom, her eyes full of worry. “We do not know who sent this. It may well be cursed. We will need to examine it thoroughly before you may have it.”

Ron turned white, then red. “ _Cursed_? Why would anyone send him a cursed broom? That’s madness.”

“Quirrell, Ron,” Hermione murmured. “Quirrell. It’s not madness, it’s being safe.”

“But—”

“If the tests reveal no tampering,” said McGonagall, “you may have this back.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so worried….”

Harry nudged Ron’s shoulder. “Because she thinks Black sent it. That’s why. She thinks he sent it to kill me.”

Ron went white again. “Oh. Well, then might I borrow yours from time to time while they’re checking it?”

“Of course, mate. Just don’t scratch it.”

“I would _never_!”

The look of horror on Ron’s face was so exaggerated, Harry couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

 

* * *

 

 

On Severus’ advice, Harry did not tell Hermione yet. Until he was certain she knew, he couldn’t risk it.

Harry was happy, though, to see Severus wearing his new gift—the bracelet Harry had bought via owl order and asked Dumbledore to help him charm. It protected against potions and ingredients injuring Severus through his skin. The bracelet would shield him from explosions and protect him against accidents when he worked on his experiments and research. That night, when he sat with Severus in his office to talk about their holidays, he shared the other half of the bracelet's secrets. This news he had wanted to deliver in person.

“Sev, that bracelet… there’s one more charm.” Harry took Severus’ hand and rubbed his fingertips, trailing carefully along the backs of his claws. “I know you’re scared of Lupin. I don’t blame you. I’m kind of scared of him myself. But I know you’ve been having nightmares, so I thought it might help if I gave you some protection.”

“Nothing can prevent lycanthropy, Harry.” Severus squeezed the boy’s hand. “But I appreciate the thought.”

Harry grinned. “No, I can’t stop you from becoming a werewolf if you’re ever bitten, but I _can_ make you smell like death and poison to werewolves so they don’t want to bite you.”

Severus’ breath caught. “That… is possible?”

“It took a lot of work to find the charm, but the headmaster helped. He lent me his books about lycanthropy and how to protect yourself. And in one of them—it was really old, so I guess most people have just forgotten the spell exists—there was a charm to make people smell like death to lycanthropes. We weren’t sure it would work on you, but the headmaster toyed with the charm and made it so it works for your kind too.”

Severus traced a fingertip along the bracelet. “So this means Lupin will never be able to harm me again. Nor Greyback.”

“As long as you wear it, yeah.”

Severus pulled Harry into his lap and hugged him tightly. “This is the best gift I have ever received, little one. Thank you.”

Harry grinned. “Wait until your birthday.”

Tail thumping softly behind him, Severus flushed and kissed Harry’s forehead. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

On Severus’ birthday, Harry spent a good hour under the invisibility cloak hunting out Salazar in the dungeons. He had plans, but he had to find Severus’ quarters and convince the portrait to let him in first. If it didn’t work, he would just wait until Severus came home, though it meant his plans would run late. Still, he would prefer to have his surprise ready sooner if he had a choice.

It took several trips through the dungeons, but, eventually, he found Salazar tucked into a corner. He grinned to himself and ducked into a nearby alcove. Part one of his plans accomplished. He cast an Unnoticeable glamour upon himself and stepped in front of the door. The glamour would hide him from anyone who didn’t know he was there. It would break for the portrait—and, with luck, _only_ for the portrait—as soon as Harry spoke. Especially as he planned to speak in Parseltongue.

With a deep breath, he stepped up to the door and carefully moved his hood back from his face, just enough to reveal his identity to the portrait once he broke his glamour for him. He opened his mouth to greet Salazar, but the portrait spoke before he could.

“Great Merlin, I _know_ that scent….”

Harry blinked. _Scent_? Shite. He hadn’t thought he stunk enough to break his glamour. He sniffed himself and frowned. He didn’t. He smelled only of soap. Maybe the founder didn’t like the Hogwarts brand? It seemed absurd, but Harry could think of no other explanation.

Harry stared at a snake winding around Salazar’s cloak pin and hissed, ~ _You can smell me?~_

The portrait’s eyes widened and focused upon him like twin lasers. Green lasers. Merlin, they had such similar colouring.

“Harry Potter,” the portrait whispered. “You should _not_ be here. You will endanger him.”

_~I’m under a glamour, sir, and my invisibility cloak. You’re the only one who can see or hear me right now since I’m using that snake on your collar to speak Parseltongue.~_

Salazar gave him an assessing look. ~ _Clever, little snake in a lion’s den. But why have you sought me out?~_

_~Um… I need into Sev’s quarters.~_

_~And why would I let you in without the password?~_

_~Well, I want to make him dinner for his birthday.~_ Harry moved back a fold of the cloak to show a basketful of steaks, potatoes, carrots, and the makings for apple pie and ice cream—all Severus’ favourites. _~_ _I figured you mightn’t let me past, and it’s all right if it would get you in trouble, but we’ll have more time to enjoy it if you can let me in.~_

Salazar searched Harry’s eyes. _~_ _You care for him.~_

_~He’s my best friend. I love him dearly.~_

Salazar bowed and came up with a bit of a smirk. _~_ _Well, I simply must see how this hare-brained scheme of yours plays out, Mister Potter, though we may both face his wrath for this later.~_

The door swung forwards with a click, and Harry scurried inside. As soon as he shut the door, Salazar reappeared on a canvas above the fireplace.

“No _wonder_ I couldn’t find you for so long,” Harry muttered with a huff. “You were in here.”

Salazar chuckled. “I stay here unless someone comes to the door for the most part. I came to the door because I heard your footsteps pass several times and noticed the same scent with them. I wanted to make sure there was no trouble, but….” His expression shifted to worry and confusion. “I did not expect to find… what I did.”

Harry cocked his head. “How can you smell me, sir? I don’t stink. Is the school soap that strong?”

Salazar’s eyes shuttered. “You keep Severus’ secrets, child. Am I also able to trust you with mine?”

Harry gasped. “You’re not human, are you?”

“I will not answer without your word.”

“That was answer enough. And I think you wouldn’t have said even this much without knowing I’d protect you.” Harry gave him a hesitant smile. “I won’t tell anyone, sir. Wizarding society is stupid for thinking everyone without a full human ancestry is evil. I mean, some yokai _are_ evil and have to be treated carefully for safety’s sake, but Sev isn’t a bloody dementor, and neither are you.”

Salazar nodded, a slow, careful movement that did not let Harry out of his sight. “I am not a yokai, child.”

“Oh? Well, that’s okay. I know you’re not evil either, whatever you are.”

Salazar hesitated. “I will show you my true form, but it may be… shocking. My ancestry is serpentine—obviously—and I do not wish you to associate me with the fool who calls himself my heir.”

Harry blinked. “Riddle? He’s _not_ your heir?”

Salazar snorted. “Oh, he is likely related to me in some distant manner through my kin, but if he were my descendant, he would not be human. None of my rather short family tree mated with humans, and so, I would be most shocked indeed to find he is of any true relation.” He frowned. “Well, I passed on before I learned who my granddaughter chose as a mate, but I doubt very much that she chose a human either. Humans do not accept our kind well.”

Harry nodded. “I understand. I won’t run screaming if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Salazar chuckled. “Ah, there is Godric’s personality within you. I had begun to wonder why the hat placed you among the lions.”

Harry flushed. “To be honest, sir, it didn’t want to. It wanted to put me in your house, but until I met Sev and knew he was head of Slytherin, I hadn’t any good experiences of them. I met the Malfoys first, and then there was Riddle… well, I was terrified to be a Slytherin. And, if I’m honest, I doubt I’d have survived this long if I had been sorted with the snakes, and maybe the hat sensed that.”

Salazar nodded. “You would not be safe among the snakes, so it is good that the hat, at least, had enough sense not to place you where you would be in the most danger. That said, I think you are more snake than lion.”

“Oh, Sev says I’m a good mix of both, what with my reckless courage and blind loyalty to my friends,” said Harry with a grin.

Salazar chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I can agree with that.” He sighed. “And I will reveal the truth to you if you will swear to show me that same loyalty.”

Harry nodded and pressed a hand to the portrait’s shoulder. “I was already loyal to you. Since the day you helped us when Sev was gone and Quirrell was after the stone, you won my trust. And I won’t hurt you, I promise, even if I _am_ a bit shocked by your nature.”

“Very well.”

Salazar’s human glamours vanished, revealing a face with serpentine features and a cobra’s hood instead of ears. He still had a head full of black hair, but it grew only behind the hood and formed a point at his forehead rather than a full hairline. He had slitted pupils like a snake and the same brilliant green eyes. A hint of a human nose softened his features slightly, but he still looked to be more snake than man. Harry could understand now why he said humans did not often mate with his kind. Most of the ninnies would be terrified of him on sight, not to mention the fact that their anatomy wasn't exactly compatible unless he kept his glamours up.

“Wow. You really are the founder of the snake house, yeah?”

Salazar chuckled nervously. It sounded breathier in his true shape. “I am indeed. I am a Naga, child, one of the serpentine guardians of India.”

“Oh. I’ve heard of them, a little.”

“Yes, you would have done. Even Muggles know of our ancestry, to some extent.” He fixed Harry with a searching look. “You are a mystery to me, Harry. I had thought, until you, that no one without Naga blood could be a Parselmouth. And yet, I smelled no non-human blood on you, so I believed you could not possibly be my descendant despite our physical similarities.”

“Well, Headmaster Dumbledore thinks this links me to Riddle and I got the ability from him.” Harry rubbed his scar, and Salazar’s eyes narrowed. “So I guess I’m the only one who isn’t part-Naga. We _do_ look a lot alike, though, don’t we?”

Salazar’s expression turned pensive. “So we do.” He motioned to the kitchen. “Hurry and prepare your food, little one. If we chat much longer, Severus will be home long before it is ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry wondered about the worry and confusion in Salazar’s eyes, but he let it slide for the time being. Perhaps Severus would be able to find out what was wrong—he doubted the Naga would trust him with his fears so soon. Instead, he obeyed and trotted to the kitchen, basket of supplies in hand.

 

* * *

 

Harry had just put the pie in the oven when Severus trudged in after his office hours, shoulders slumped and rubbing his face from exhaustion.

“Merlin, what a day.” He jerked back at the sight of Harry bustling around his kitchen in a red apron. “Harry? How did you get in here without the password, child?”

Harry gave him a sheepish grin. “I told Salazar—in Parseltongue—that I wanted to make you dinner for your birthday. He said he _had_ to see this, and so he let me in.”

Salazar smirked from the portrait on the mantel.

Severus chuckled and sniffed the air. “Oh, it does smell marvellous. Would you like some help?”

Harry gave him a dark look. “You don’t _help_ with your birthday dinner. You sit down and relax. It looks like you’ve had a tough day.”

“Merlin, yes. One of my fifth years decided to add salamander tears of all things to his half-done brew of Draught of Peace.”

Salazar winced. “Not good.”

Harry looked between them curiously. “I’m judging by your expressions that salamander tears don’t go in Draught of Peace?”

“No, they do—at the _end_ of the brewing process. At the halfway point, it causes a rather nasty reaction. My entire classroom is covered in lurid pink, naphthalene-scented foam.”

Harry covered a giggle. “Merlin, that _is_ a bad day. Maybe give me detention and I’ll help you clean it up.”

Severus kissed his temple. “It is too dangerous for a third year, little one, but thank you for the offer.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Harry. I’ve had to cancel classes until the room has aired out anyway, so I will ask Argus to help me tomorrow.”

“All right. Then go sit down for a bit and rest your feet. The meat needs to rest a few minutes, the potatoes are still cooking, and the pie’s already in the oven, so I can take care of you for a little bit.”

Severus raised an eyebrow and settled into his favourite chair. “How do you intend to do that?”

Harry grinned. “ _Accio_ healing salve.” He held out a hand, Summoning a jar without a wand.

“Merlin, child! When did you learn to do that wandlessly?”

Harry blushed. “I… I dunno. My magic has been stronger since that day the headmaster channelled me to heal you. It’s like he… unlocked things inside me.”

Salazar gave a small gasp but said nothing. Harry went on after a moment.

“I don’t know how else to describe it, Sev, but his powers made mine stronger, for sure.”

Severus rubbed his chin, his expression worried. “In that case, I believe we had best start training you for combat and healing, little one.”

“ _Combat_?”

“Yes. To protect you as well as your friends. Whether we like it or not, you will need to know how to fight. And if you are already demonstrating wandless abilities at fourteen, it is best we begin to channel your magic before it grows beyond your control. For you, defensive and light magic will be best, I think.”

Harry pulled an ottoman to rest under Severus’ feet and sat on it. He tugged the yokai’s boot into his lap and frowned as he untied his laces. “So does that mean our detentions are going to become training soon?”

Severus nodded. “I think so, child.”

Harry winced. “Will we still be able to spend time together, just as friends?”

Severus rubbed his tail against Harry’s leg. “Of course. Perhaps not as much, but we shall still be together, child. Do not fear.”

“Well, today is about you, so we’re not training tonight.” Harry removed Severus’ boot and sock, then did the other foot and smiled at the fact that Severus’ toes had human nails. “Why don’t your feet have claws like your hands?”

“I assume because it would make it more difficult for us to survive. I could not wear shoes and pose as a human if my feet had cla—” Severus’ breath caught as Harry removed Severus’ robe as well and unbuttoned his collar. “H-Harry? What are you doing, child?”

“Taking care of you. Doesn’t your neck hurt? You keep moving it around and rubbing it.”

Severus’ Adam’s apple bobbed. “I… y-yes. I am rather sore, but why do you ask?”

Harry moved behind the yokai and pushed Severus’ collar down, revealing his slender neck and strong shoulders. The lines of old scars crossed his nape and the top of his shoulders. Whip scars. A surge of molten rage boiled Harry’s insides. One day, he would kill the shitehead responsible for hurting his loving, beautiful friend.

“Because  I want to take care of you. Because it’s your birthday and I know no one’s ever done this for you before.” Harry rubbed salve into Severus’ shoulder and drew a gasp from the yokai. “Does it hurt, Sev?”

“No, gods no.” Severus rolled his head into Harry’s touch and sighed. “It feels wonderful. I was only surprised that you wished to… agh….”

Harry rubbed his thumb in circles over the knot he had just found. “Better?”

“Much.” Severus rolled his shoulders into Harry’s strokes and dropped his head forwards. “Merlin. I am shocked that you wish to care for me like this, but I will not complain either.”

“I just want you to feel better, Sev. It was hurting me to watch you suffer.”

Severus laid a hand over one of Harry’s. “Thank you, child. It does feel—oh gods.”

His words broke off in a low moan of pleasure that made Harry feel strange. He liked the sound. Liked knowing he was making Severus feel good. A hot flush came to his face as he rubbed his friend’s shoulders and neck, listening to the little sounds he couldn’t quite stifle.

“Merlin, Harry,” Severus murmured in a slurred voice. “Keep that up and I will not be awake enough to enjoy your food.”

Harry laughed and stepped back. “Can’t have that.” As he tugged Severus’ shirt back into place, he noticed a strange feeling in his belly and groin, but he ignored it. “I’m going to put the steaks on now and check on the potatoes. Dinner should be ready in ten.”

“Mm.” Severus’ head lolled on the back of his chair. Harry kissed his cheek and petted his ear.

“Would you rather sleep, Sev? We can always eat together another time.”

Severus sat up and shook himself. “I can sleep later. I would not miss dinner, as you went to all the trouble to break into my quarters and make it for me.”

Harry laughed and returned to the stove. “It’ll be done in a minute.”

Severus set the table while Harry finished up, and soon, they had a delicious meal in front of them. Severus eyed the food with a glare.

“Sev?” Harry shrank into himself, fearful and uncertain. “Did I do something wrong?”

Severus gave Harry a wan smile. “No, child. It looks lovely. I am only thinking of your relatives and that you should not know how to cook so well this young.”

“Don’t. I like cooking. That and gardening are the chores I don’t mind. So eat up.”

Severus’ smile brightened. “Yes, let’s.” He cut into his steak and made another little moan of delight. “Harry, Merlin, this is delicious.”

Harry beamed and tasted his steak, too. Ah. Perfect.

They devoured their meal and dessert in record time. After dinner, Harry led Severus to the sofa and helped him to lie down, feet in Harry’s lap.

“I have never been taken care of like this,” said Severus in a small, soft voice. “It feels—I feel as though I do not deserve such treatment.”

Harry patted his foot. “Sev, this isn’t something I’m doing because you _earned_ it, even though you do deserve this and more. I’m doing it because I love you and I want you to be happy.”

Severus rubbed his tail against Harry’s knee. “The day was miserable, but the night has been lovely. Thank you, Harry. It was a wonderful gift.”

Harry smirked. “I haven’t _given_ you your gift yet,” he said with a laugh. “Dinner was, well, just pampering you, I guess, because I know you never have been.”

“Harry… it’s all so much.”

“You deserve it, Sev. Enjoy it. You’re allowed to be happy.”

Severus gave him a shy smile. “Thank you. What did you bring me then?”

“This one… I made. Well, sort of. The headmaster helped again, though I came up with the concept and he taught me some of the theory as we went. It’s a spell. Well, two and a counterspell for both. First, _Concelo Odos_. That one hides your scent completely. Then use _Daemonodos Permuto Hominum_. That makes your scent smell human and fills the void the first spell leaves behind. That way, no other werewolves—or other superhuman races—will be able to recognise your race by your scent. Lupin will know, of course, but no one else. And it works with the bracelet too. If you ever want to cancel it and have your natural scent again, you use _Reverto Odos._ ”

Severus sat up and caught Harry into a hug. “Thank you. I have never been so well-protected.”

“Is it good, Sev?”

“It is brilliant, little one. I have never had such a lovely birthday either.”

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

After Harry left his quarters, Severus had planned to go straight to bed and rest in preparation for the long day ahead of him, but Salazar called to him from the mantel. By the worried look in the founder’s eyes, something had troubled him greatly.

“Salazar? What is it?”

Salazar took a shaky breath. “Severus, Harry’s scent has changed. I cannot place what it is about his scent that worries me so, but he smells familiar. _Too_ familiar. And different than he ever has done before. Something fundamental within that child has altered since his first year.”

Severus swallowed hard. “Fundamental how?”

Salazar paused. “Severus, I am no longer certain that Harry is _not_ of my line. That kind of fundamental.”

“But none of your line are human, are they?”

“Perhaps one.” Salazar closed his eyes. “I cannot say beyond a doubt, but I believe we should keep an eye on him as he grows, just in case there is more here that we cannot see yet.”

Severus nodded. “I had no plans to stop watching over him, Salazar.”

“I think, Severus, we would all do well to watch over that boy. There is too much laid upon his shoulders, and he has too little time to learn to cope with it.” Salazar fixed Severus with a piercing gaze. “The sooner you teach him to fight, the better. And don’t neglect Muggle means. Wizards these days—particularly the sort you are facing—disdain them, as you well know. They will not be prepared for a Harry Potter who not only knows how to curse them into oblivion, but who can defend himself and others with swordsmanship and martial arts.”

Severus nodded grimly. “A wise plan, my friend. I shall begin his training as soon as I can feasibly plan for a cover story. Perhaps I shall have Harry destroy something valuable in the potions lab in retaliation for my constant sniping. Albus will resist expulsion, and as a result, I will have a viable excuse to place him in thrice-weekly detention for the rest of the year.”

Salazar chuckled darkly. “My friend, you are more Slytherin than I am.”

Severus laughed and started sorting out the details on his way to bed.

 

* * *

 

Severus still hadn’t worked out how Pettigrew kept appearing on the map. Most often by Ron Weasley, but sometimes in other places around the castle. Every time Severus tried to find the bugger, he came up empty. It was driving him mad.

Harry hadn’t asked for the map back, though Severus knew he wanted it, and Severus had every intention of giving it to him for his own protection—once he knew whether Pettigrew was truly in the castle or not. If Pettigrew _was_ alive, that called everything about Black’s history in question. If Pettigrew still lived… then Black might be innocent.

Of murder, at least.

Again, Severus saw Pettigrew’s name in Gryffindor tower. It boggled the mind. The boys would never allow a grown man to sleep in their room—in Ronald’s bed, for Merlin’s sake—and Harry would certainly have informed Severus if Pettigrew _had_ shown up. Severus might have passed it off as a fluke if the map hadn’t correctly informed him of Sirius Black’s presence in the castle—and that of every other student.

Severus deactivated the map and prodded it with his wand, testing it for flaws and hidden tricks. “I command you reveal your secrets.”

But all he got was a page full of insults. _Specific_ insults. Too specific for him to ignore.

Severus packed the map in his pocket and made his way to the Defence professor’s quarters. As much as he would rather avoid Lupin at all costs, this superseded his issues with the Marauders and their bullying.

Lupin answered the door with a smile that dropped off his face at the sight of Severus. “Can I help you?”

Severus nodded to the werewolf’s office. “You can let me in, to start with.”

Lupin raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of whether that’s necessary. What is it?”

“Suit yourself.” If the wolf wanted his dirty laundry aired to the public, Severus had no issue with it. “I seem to have stumbled upon one of your old… _tricks_ , or perhaps the object which enabled their effectiveness, and I would like some answers.”

Lupin gave him a falsely-sweet smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t the foggiest idea as to what you mean, Severus.”

Severus snapped, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good. Ring any bells?”

Lupin paled and moved towards his office without another word. He slammed the door behind Severus and hissed, “ _How_? Sirius lost it in seventh year!”

“Yes, and the Weasley twins found it, and then passed it on to Harry, who then passed it to me when he realised how dangerous it was.”

Lupin sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Fine. What about it? I assume you already know how to work it?”

“Yes. What I want to know is whether it is accurate or not.”

“Always. Why?”

“Because it cannot possibly _be_ accurate.”

Lupin narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“It is showing the names of dead men!”

“What?”

With a dark glare, Severus whipped out the map and spat, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” He jabbed his finger at the Gryffindor common room, where Ronald Bilius Weasley, Hermione Jean Granger, and Harry James Potter were apparently playing a lively round of Exploding Snap with Peter Mordred Pettigrew.

Lupin’s eyes widened. “No. It can’t be. He’s _dead_!”

“I thought werewolves were supposed to have superhuman hearing.”

Lupin glared. “I heard you. But this….”

“Tell me, Lupin, how is it possible a dead man is appearing on your ‘always accurate’ map, and yet, when I have traced him, there is never anyone to be found?”

Lupin went ashen. “I… I d-don’t know.”

But Severus could smell a lie from fifty paces. He grabbed the wolf by the collar and slammed him against the nearest wall. “I think you _do_ know, wolf. Spit it out. How is he in the castle?”

“Get off me, you bloody bastard!”

“ _Answer me_!”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. Let me go, before I begin to think perhaps you’re too dangerous for your own good after all.”

At the blatant threat, Severus threw him back and released him. Lupin rubbed his throat and glared.

“Fine then, wolf, keep your secrets. But know this. If your cowardice gets Harry hurt or killed, then you will _wish_ you had died from your vow.”

Severus snatched the map out from under Lupin’s reaching hand and left, heading for the headmaster’s office. “Albus? We need to speak. Urgently. We have a problem.”

 

* * *

 

It was a damned shame that Veritaserum required the use of silver cauldron to create, or Severus would have choked the werewolf on it to get his answers. A murder charge, unfortunately, would draw Ministry attention to his own secrets, so for the moment, Severus’ could do little but make not-so-idle threats in hopes of forcing Lupin to man up and tell the truth.

When that failed, Severus had hoped Black’s second attack would drive Lupin to reveal what he knew for Harry’s sake, but the werewolf had yet to grow a pair. At least the attack had done no lasting harm, and it had revealed that something was amiss with the story of Black’s betrayal and Pettigrew’s death, but it did not remove the threat hanging over Harry’s head. Gods, he wished he could string the werewolf up and beat the truth out of him, but such behaviour would not look good on his curriculum vitae. For the moment, he could do nothing but attempt to work out the truth for himself.

Harry tried to help. He had pleaded with Lupin to tell them the truth, using the wolf’s supposed soft spot for Harry to drag answers out of him, but the bloody coward had pretended not to know what Harry was talking about.

When that failed, Albus had stepped in and made it clear that he would soon take action if Lupin did not help them, but Lupin pretended to be innocent. Albus had begun searching for a replacement instructor, but could not truly let him go. Although Lupin deserved it and worse, they had to keep him close in case the coward happened to find his bollocks. For Harry’s sake, they needed the wolf where they could keep an eye on him.

When all their attempts to get the truth out of Lupin failed, Harry decided to help Severus work out the truth on his own instead. He did his part by watching for signs of anyone in the school who shouldn’t be, even going so far as to wave his arms over Ron while he slept, in case someone invisible was hiding there that he couldn’t see, but he had never found anyone. Not that Severus had expected him to. Harry should be able to see an invisible person as a clairvoyant—he had always seen Severus, after all.

No, it was nothing so simple as a disillusionment charm. Pettigrew had found some other method of concealment. A method both Black and Lupin knew of, for Severus was not so foolish as to believe Black would target Ronald Weasley or choose the wrong bed. Black had gone after _Pettigrew_ that night in the tower, not Ron.

The question that haunted Severus was _why_?

 

* * *

 

It came as no surprise that Gryffindor won the cup, not with Harry on a Firebolt. The other team hadn’t much chance to keep up with a broom of that speed combined with a seeker of Harry’s skill. Outwardly, Severus complained about the unfairness of it all, but in private, he cheered Harry’s victory and made the boy some of his favourite chocolate caramel biscuits as a treat.

Harry had planned to come down after the party, and so Severus set some butterbeer in the cold box to chill and settled in with a book to wait. He had barely made it past the first few pages, however, when Harry came tearing into his quarters without so much as knocking. He hadn’t given the password, either. Severus thought he might need to have a chat with Salazar, but then he saw Harry and understood why the portrait had let him in without a password.

Harry was shaking, tears glimmering in his wide eyes, breathless and white as a sheet. Severus rushed to him and guided him to the sofa.

“Harry! Child, what is it? What’s happened?”

“L-Luna. Came to the party with Ginny.”

Severus struggled to match the name with a face. Luna… ah. Harry must be referring to Lovegood.

“What happened, Harry?”

“Seer—she’s a Seer.”

The bottom dropped out of Severus’ stomach. “Oh. And she had a vision?”

“P-prophecy. Said… _‘the servant of the Dark Lord will return to his master when the moon-mad next roam.’_   What does that mean?”

“Werewolves.” Severus shuddered and sat down beside Harry. “Werewolves were once referred to as ‘moon-mad.’”

“So this means….”

“The servant of the Dark Lord, whoever he is, will return to him on the next full moon.”

“But… that’s _tomorrow_!”

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

It finally hit Harry the next afternoon while Ron was whinging about Crookshanks always going after Scabbers.

“Merlin, Hermione, he’s already lost a toe. And your bloody monster’s determined to make him lose the rest!”

“A toe?” Harry’s heart slammed into his ribs.

_‘The only part they ever found of him was a finger.’_

Oh gods. “Which toe, Ron?”

Ron gave him a bemused look. “Well, why should that matter?”

“I’m just curious.”

Ron blinked a few times, confused. “Uh… this one?” He pointed to his left index finger, and Harry’s breath hitched.

“Oh.” He kept his expression neutral and his voice steady. “Well, I need to go—loo break, you know how it is. Er… I’ll be right back.”

Hermione gave him a searching look as Harry dashed out of the common room, heart pounding and hands shaking. He made it just past the portrait hole before he heard Ron shriek.

“He _bit_ me! Scabbers _bit_ me! Shite, where’s he gone?”

A rat scampered past Harry, an orange streak hot on his tail.

“Wait, get back here!”

But the bastard was already gone.

“Damn it.”

Ron marched out of the room. “I’m going after him.”

“Ron, no,” Harry cried. “Don’t—”

But Ron had already torn off after the rat, and Harry might only have seconds to warn the headmaster and Severus.

“Hermione, go with him,” he hissed. “Be ready for trouble. Scabbers isn’t a rat!”

“What?”

“Human—Animagus! Get him!”

“ _What_?” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “H-how do you kno—?”

“Hermione, we don’t have _time_! Just go!”

She winced and raced away after Ron. Harry sped towards the headmaster’s tower, but he ran headlong into Severus along the way. Severus barely levitated a steaming goblet out of the way in time and opened his mouth to reprimand him, but stopped at the sight of Harry’s face. With a flick of his wand, he sent the goblet soaring down the hall to knock against a nearby door and steered Harry out of the corridor, not wasting time with their usual act.

Severus whispered, “What is it?”

“Pettigrew—it’s Ron’s rat! Animagus! He’s missing a toe—the rat—this one.” Harry pointed, and Severus gasped.

“Dear gods! That explains—where _is_ he?”

Harry pointed. “Ran away. Crookshanks chasing him. I think he _knows_ , Crook, I mean.”

“Yes, a half-kneazle would be able to tell. Go. I will hide and follow.”

“Be careful.”

“Yes, you too.”

 

* * *

 

Pettigrew led Harry and Severus into the Whomping Willow. Or rather, a giant black dog did. Ron caught Pettigrew right outside its boughs, still thinking he was Scabbers, and the dog Harry had seen hanging about occasionally dragged Ron into the willow’s roots. Crookshanks held down a knot for them to pass, but Ron hooked his leg around one of the roots and fought with all his might.

“Harry! ‘Mione! Help!”

“I’m coming, Ron!”

Hermione staggered after him as fast as her tired legs would go, but she had already run over the entire castle, and she was flagging. Harry dashed up behind her and raced to reach Ron with all his remaining strength, but just as he reached the range of the willow’s boughs, Ron’s leg gave an almighty crack, and a screaming Ron disappeared into the trees’ roots.

“Ron!” Harry raced after him, but the instant Crookshanks disappeared into the roots, the willow started swinging again. Harry barely ducked a bough in time and scrambled out of range.

“Shite,” Harry panted. “What now?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” Hermione gasped out, chest heaving, face red with exertion. “How did they get in?”

Behind him, a low voice chilled Harry’s blood. “I think, children, I will have to assist you.”

Hermione squeaked, “ _Professor Snape_?”

Harry whirled around, eyes wide with fear. “S-sir?”

Severus ruffled Harry’s hair. “You have been worried our secret was out for some time anyway, Harry. And I think we have no other choice but to work together now if we are to save him.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “Oh gods. It _is_ true!”

Harry winced. “How much do you know?”

“That he doesn’t hate you. I’ve been wondering about it since first year, when—”

“We will discuss this _later_ , children,” Severus reminded them in a gentle tone. “We have no time now.”

“R-right.” Harry pressed into Severus and buried his face in the tengu’s side. “So afraid.”

“I am here.” Severus lifted a stone with raw magic and pressed it into a knot on the trunk of the willow. The branches slowed. “Come.”

Harry and Hermione followed Severus into the tree, but Harry felt the shudders going through Severus’ frame and knew he was frightened, too. Badly so.

“Sev? What’s wrong?”

“This is where I met the werewolf.”

Harry grimaced. “Oh Sev. It’s okay. Lupin isn’t here.”

“Thank the gods for that.”

Hermione squeaked. “He really _is_ a werewolf? I had thought… maybe you were only angry at him, Professor, and _wanted_ us to think that.”

“He’s really a werewolf,” said Harry with a scowl. “And a bastard. He’s known all this time that Pettigrew is an Animagus and didn’t have the guts to tell us. I would have told you, but Pettigrew was always hanging around Ron somehow, and I was afraid if I said it out loud, we would lose him or he would attack us.”

“How did you know, Harry?”

“The Marauder’s Map. The twins gave it to me before the second Hogsmeade trip. It’s a map of Hogwarts and it tells you the names of everybody in the castle. Ghosts, familiars, Animagi, invisible people— _everyone_. Nothing can hide from it. And Severus and I kept seeing Pettigrew’s name, but we didn’t understand how he could be there.”

“Harry! That kind of thing is _very_ dangerous! Imagine if Black had found it.”

Severus snorted. “Black _wrote_ it.”

Hermione whipped around, staring at Severus with wide eyes.

Severus sighed and ushered her forwards. “It is true. I discovered it when I tested the map for flaws earlier in the term. The map insulted me with words only those four ever used. I knew then that Lupin, Black, Potter, and Pettigrew were responsible for its origins.”

“That’s why he cornered Lupin and confronted him, ‘Mione,” Harry explained. “And why the headmaster and I did, too.”

“Yes, for what little good it did,” Severus said with a huff.

Harry scowled. “Lupin couldn’t find his bollocks if you put his hand down his trousers. But come on. We need to run. Sev, can you handle it?”

Severus steeled himself and nodded. “Your friend is in danger. I will face my fears for his sake. For yours.”

“Then come on. Let’s go. Hold my hand, all right?”

Severus nodded and slid his hand into Harry’s.

“Wait, sir,” Hermione whispered. “You should hide. Ron isn’t as—he won’t take it as well. Especially not when he’s already hurt and scared.”

Severus vanished the next instant. “Thank you, Miss Granger. Now, let us hurry.”

“Right.”

Harry squeezed Severus’ hand and led him off at a breakneck pace. The tengu, having his wings to help and more speed than most humans to begin with, was able to keep pace easily. Hermione soon fell behind, but Harry didn’t have time to worry about her. They’d tarried too much already, and Ron was in danger. Hermione would be okay for a few moments.

They found Ron on a tattered bed in the Shrieking Shack, holding his broken leg and struggling to keep a grip on a squealing, fear-maddened ‘Scabbers.’ The rat had bitten and scratched his hands all over. Crookshanks fought to extricate the rat as well, and the dog loomed nearby, growling and snarling, though he wasn’t attacking Ron.

“Ron!” Hermione cried and raced to him. “Oh gods, are you okay?”

“No!” Ron cried out and waved them back. “Don’t—go back! It’s a trap—the dog, he’s an Animagus!”

“So is Scabbers,” Harry returned. “Wait, the dog?”

“Hello, Harry,” said a raspy, deep voice.

Harry turned to find Sirius Black staring at him with wild, hungry eyes.

“You—you look so much like your father.”

“Let’s hope I don’t act like him,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Black choked back his next words, shock all over his face. “But—”

“Later.” Harry pointed his wand at Scabbers. “Ron, listen, hold on tight to Scabbers. He’s _not_ human. He’s an Animagus too—Peter Pettigrew.”

Ron’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “But… but that’s barmy! He’s _dead_. Black killed him!”

“I tried to,” Black growled, “but little Peter got the better of me, didn’t you? Cut off his finger and blasted the street apart to cover his escape. Turned into a rat and ran off into the sewer. But this time, you won’t get away, you hear me? This time, I’ll actually _commit_ the crime I’ve been in prison for!”

Black lunged for Ron, but a spell shot over Harry’s shoulder and slowed him down.

“ _Impedimenta_!”

Harry turned, thinking Severus had cast, only to find Lupin standing in the doorway with his wand outstretched.

“Well, this day just gets better and better by the second,” Harry said with a groan.

 

* * *

 

Harry listened impatiently to Black’s story, wand fixed on Pettigrew, and rolled his eyes when Lupin and Black hugged like brothers.

“Oh, please. Can we save the emotional reunions for later?”

Black fixed Harry with a bemused look. “I… I had thought you would be glad to see me.”

“Oh yes, thrilled.” Harry scowled. “You might not have killed Pettigrew and those Muggles, Black, but that doesn’t make you innocent. You’re a bully, torturer, and attempted murderer. And something tells me you don’t regret any of it one bit.”

Black and Ron stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Harry didn’t care.      

“Stop gawking and get moving,” Harry snapped. “I _know_ you know how to force an Animagus out of their animal form, Lupin. Do something _useful_ for once.”

Black gulped. “M-Moony, why is Harry so angry with us?”

“Because he’s best friends with—”

“ _Silencio_!” Harry slammed Lupin into a wall and dug his wand into the man’s throat. “Did I, or did I not, warn you I would fucking kill you if you hurt him?”

“ _Harry_!”

He ignored Black’s shocked cry and Hermione’s weak shout and pressed his wand deeper into the bastard’s throat. “One more word, Lupin, and I’ll make damn sure you regret it.”

“Mother of Merlin, Harry,” Ron breathed, then yelped as Pettigrew bit him again. “Look, if this really _is_ Pettigrew, do you think we might _change him back_ already before he bites me down to the bone?”

“Good idea,” said Harry in a dark voice. “I think you had best listen to him, _Moony_.”

Lupin gulped and nodded, and Harry released him, though he kept his wand aimed at the werewolf’s back.

“ _A-Animagus Reverto_!”

Blue light shot at Pettigrew and encased him. Harry watched impassively as the rat shifted and altered to become a remarkably rat-like man, buck teeth, tiny eyes, twitching frame and all. The man had a finger missing on his left hand.

“R-Remus, S-S-Sirius, my old f-friends….”

Harry watched the former Marauders confront Pettigrew and half hoped they all killed each other.

He leaned against a shaking Severus and discreetly whispered, “Are you okay?”

“No.”

Harry pulled Severus’ hand into his own and gently rubbed his fingers.

Black and Lupin cornered Pettigrew. “Goodbye, Peter,” said Lupin. “Now you will die like you should have done all those years ago.”

Harry scoffed. “Oh please. You’re so pathetic, Lupin. You can’t face down an armed teenage boy, but you’re going to kill an unarmed man? Bloody coward. And you, Black, don’t you think it’s a _bit_ stupid to kill him before he can verify your innocence?”

“Shut up,” Lupin shouted. “I’ve had about enough of your cheek, Harry Potter! It’s past time I—”

The wolf aimed his wand at Harry, but Severus stepped in front of him and made himself visible. “I would rethink that if I were you, Lupin.”

Lupin quailed. “S-Severus? What are you doing here?”

“What else? Ensuring that you two do not bollocks up the evening, of course. One of you is responsible for my former best friend’s death. I should like to see that one skewered on a spit before we are through here, and, clearly, I cannot trust the two of you to do so without turning on… _innocent_ children.”

“Get away from my godson, _Snivellus_ ,” Black snarled.

“Call him that again,” Harry snapped, “and I’ll have your arse, Black.”

Black reeled. “But—but he’s an arsehole to you, Harry! Surely you—”

“I don’t care what he’s done to me,” Harry snapped back. “I don’t care if he’s Riddle himself, I don’t hold with bullies! And you, you’re far worse than a simple bully. Are you man enough to admit it?”

Black swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you’re just as big of a coward as _this_ pansy then. Why am I not surprised?” Harry scoffed and turned away. “Well, I gave you a chance, Black. Professor Snape, since these two are obviously too stupid to work out that they ought to be more concerned about the murderer in our presence than my loyalties, would you please make sure Pettigrew doesn’t escape, sir?”

Severus nodded curtly and conjured a steel cage for the man, suspending it between two bars he then placed on the Marauders’ shoulders. “The two of you can carry the burden of your idiocy and cowardice.” He pointed his wand at Pettigrew. “You owe Potter your life, but if you even think of transforming, I will make sure you do not live long enough to regret it. You will agree to that, Potter?”

Harry smiled grimly. “Of course, sir.”

“Very well. Then let us leave this foul place. It smells of dog.”

Harry suppressed a laugh and heaved Ron out of the bed, taking the side with his splinted leg that he might bear more of his weight. Hermione took the other, and the three of them led the way out of the shack, followed by a grim Severus, a confused Black, a subdued Lupin, and a cage full of traitorous scum.

Outside the tunnel, Black tried to win Harry over again, though he only succeeded in making Harry’s skin crawl.

“You know, Harry," said the mutt in a rushed plea, “if you wanted, you don’t have to live with the Dursleys any longer. I’m your godfather, so once my name is cleared, you can come live with me. We’ll sort out this mess and be happy, you’ll see. Everything will be just fine.”

Harry turned and gave the man a disgusted look. “I just met you five minutes ago, and up until then, I’d believed you a mass murderer. And besides that, I know what kind of boy you were growing up. And you think I’d want to _move in_ with you? Are you mad?”

“Probably so, Potter,” Severus said in an even tone. “Azkaban does tend to have that effect on its residents after any length of time within its walls.”

“Right, thank you, sir.” Harry shuddered and turned away from Black. “Thanks, but no thanks, Black. I’d rather face the devil I know.”

“But, but, Harry! I’ve been trying to make it up all this time. I mean… didn’t you like your Christmas present?”

“What present? Oh, so you _did_ send the other Firebolt.”

“Of course. Had to make up for twelve years of—wait, the _other_ Firebolt?”

Harry smirked. “Yep. Thanks, but I already had one from someone who actually cares about me. You’ll have to ask Ron if he likes the one you sent. I gave it to him.”

“Flies like a dream, thanks,” said Ron with a grin.

Black stopped, gaping at Harry. “But… but who else would have…?”

“What?” Harry’s eyes narrowed and focused on Black like lasers. “Who else would have cared about me enough to save and save for months to buy me a broom when they knew I loved it? Did you even know I liked it? Or did you just assume I would because my father liked to fly?”

Black gulped. “Harry, listen.” He stopped dead, his features twisting in sudden fury, and wheeled on Severus. “ _You_! You did it, Snivellus!”

Harry cursed him with purple spots all over. He would have done worse had the idiot not been carrying Pettigrew.

“Black, you utter fool!” Severus aimed his wand within the cage. “I’ll thank you to keep your mouth shut before you get us all killed! _Obliviate_!” Pettigrew’s eyes went lax. “You know nothing of my relationship with Potter, only that I hate him as the rest of the world believes.” Severus turned his back on the idiots. “Bloody fools, the lot of you.”

Black opened his mouth, but Harry fired a silencing spell so fast, he hadn’t time to form the first syllable of Severus’ name. Black gave Lupin a pleading look, but Lupin ignored him.

So the wolf _did_ have some sense. Sometimes.

It took Black until they had arrived outside the Whomping Willow’s branches to break the silencing spell. “Harry, Harry, listen to me, please. You can’t trust Sn— _him_ , and your father would have wanted—”

Harry snorted. “My father was just as bad as the rest of you pricks. And the answer is still no.” He gave Black a vicious smile. “What, surprised? You’re an arsehole, Black. And I’d sooner trust the enemy who’s at least kept me alive over the years even if he _has_ been a berk about it—”

Severus snapped, “Twenty points from Gryffindor and a detention tomorrow evening, Potter, and you had best watch your language or it will be the worse for you.”

Harry gave him a jerky nod. “Yes, sir. Anyway, I’d sooner trust him than the supposed ally who abandoned me as a baby to get revenge on a traitor and got himself locked up for it.”

Black whimpered, an exceptionally dog-like sound. “But… Harry….”

Ron gave Harry a confused look and whispered. “Mate, what’s going on?”

Harry sighed. “It’s a long story. I think I’ll have to tell you now, but somewhere safe. Not here. Not with a traitor, a madman, and a werewolf standing right next to… oh gods.” Harry froze. “A werewolf!” He sucked in a sharp breath as the words of Luna’s prophecy washed over him again.

_“When the moon-mad next roam….”_

“Lupin!” Harry shot the man a fierce look. “Did you take your potion?”

Lupin blinked. “Er… what?”

“Your potion! _Did you take it_?”

By Lupin’s worried look and shamed blush, Harry gathered the answer was _no_.

“Professor,” Harry cried, voice sharp with fear. “Sir, we’ve got to—”

Severus was already moving, already casting spells to shield them, but too late. Just as Harry spoke, the moon appeared from behind the clouds and Lupin dropped his end of the cage.

“Oh no,” Harry gasped. “Oh gods, what do we do?”

Severus cried, “Behind me, children,” and dashed to stand in front of them, wand out and bracelet shining in the moonlight.

Harry prayed with all he was worth that the spell worked, that it would drive Moony away before they were all killed.

Ron whispered, “W-what’s going on?”

Lupin gave an unearthly scream that morphed quickly into a howl.

“He’s a werewolf,” Harry hissed. “Lupin—that’s why he gets sick once a month. Stay still.” He whispered so Pettigrew wouldn’t hear, “Professor Snape has protection of a sort, but _we_ don’t!”

“Merlin’s bollocks!”

Hermione hissed, “ _Ssh_!”

Ahead, Lupin howled again and turned to face the others. He sniffed, made a face and shook himself as if he had tasted something foul, and turned towards Black instead, but Black had already shifted into his grim form. The dog tackled the werewolf, and the two of them ran off into the forest, away from the students and staff, Harry hoped.

Only once Lupin had gone did Harry recall the traitor he had left behind, but by the time Harry and the others were safe enough to turn back to Pettigrew, he was already gone.

“The Dark Lord’s servant will return to his master,” Harry breathed. “It was him. All along, it was him.”

Severus wrapped an arm around all three children and guided them home.

 

* * *

 

Of course, it wasn’t to be that easy. As soon as Fudge heard that Black was in Hogwarts and running with a werewolf, he had called in the aurors and dementors. Harry attempted to save him, not because he liked him, but because the man didn’t deserve to have his soul sucked out for being an arsehole. Then the dementors had turned on _him_ , and when he woke up, he was in the hospital wing.

Albus patted Hermione’s shoulder and whispered, “Three turns should do it, dear girl, and perhaps save more than one innocent life.”

And so, Harry found out about the time turner. They saved Buckbeak—who, in Harry’s opinion, deserved it far more than his godfather—and Black. And Harry’s Patronus warded the Dementors off. As he watched his crow canter off—having thought it was Severus’ the first time he saw it—he thought of Severus’ Patronus and wondered if there was any significance beyond their close friendship reflecting in their magic.

Once again, he woke in the hospital wing, but this time, Pomfrey had only kept him for observation. Even so, Severus lay beside him, his shoulders trembling with quiet sobs.

“Hey,” Harry whispered and petted Severus’ ears, “it’s okay. I’m safe, Sev.”

“ _Never_ risk yourself so to save a madman again.”

Harry gave a wry laugh. “Sev, I didn’t do it for _him_. Buckbeak didn’t deserve to die.”

“You faced down a hundred Dementors for a hippogriff?”

“What? He’s a nice Hippogriff.”

Severus burst into soft laughter and buried his face in Harry’s shoulder to stifle the sound. Before long, his laughter changed to tears. “Please, Harry. I love you. Please stop terrifying the life out of me every end of term.”

Harry chuckled and petted Severus’ ears. “I’ll try, Sev, but I begin to think I’m just a danger magnet.”

Severus sighed and nuzzled his head under Harry’s chin. “It is not your fault, little one. It is the fate you were born into. I just hate seeing you in so much trouble at all hours of the day.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m safe.”

Severus squeezed Harry’s hand. “Thank Merlin.” He laid his head on Harry’s shoulder and covered him with his wings. “You will have to tell your friends about me now, won’t you?”

“I think so. I couldn’t really hide it last night. Thank Merlin you thought to _Obliviate_ Pettigrew before he escaped, or we’d all be in for it.”

“We were both too distraught last night, but we must take greater care in the future. Your friends will not betray you, and Albus has sworn Black to a vow of Secrecy and placed him under a gag curse—and Lupin too—but next time, I may not have time to _Obliviate_ our other liabilities. I may not know of them. If we continue to be indiscreet in public, then we shall both suffer.”

“You’re right, Sev. I’m sorry. I… it’s just that I didn’t want them to hurt you.”

“Harry, I know, child. Like I must pretend to hate you in class, you must pretend to hate me with the others from now on. This means you must pretend to enjoy it when others call me cruel names and insult my appearance.”

“No,” Harry said with a glare. “That would be too out of character. I’ve already made it known I won’t tolerate bullying—not even of Malfoy, and I really do hate him. If I suddenly pretended to like it, everyone would be suspicious.” He sighed and stroked Severus’ silky hair. “But you’re right that I need to be less obvious about how I feel about you. I’m sorry, Severus.”

“I was not as discreet as I should have been last night either. Do not blame yourself.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead and rubbed his cheek. “Sleep. We shall speak of this more in the morning.”

Harry nodded. “Wait, though. What happened to Lupin? Is he still running the forest?”

Severus shook his head. “The moon has set. He is in Albus’ office, and he will be leaving Hogwarts in the morning.”

“Why? Is he quitting and turning tail?”

Severus rolled his eyes at Harry’s smirk. “Hilarious. No. Albus sacked him.”

“What?” Harry grinned. “Serves him right, but why? He’s been willing to put up with a lot of shite from Lupin before, so what made him sack him now?”

“Besides the fact that he drew his wand on a student? When you told me of Pettigrew, we were right outside Lupin’s office. I set his goblet of potion to knock against his door until he took it, but Lupin had heard us talking and decided that trailing us and tracking Pettigrew and Black were more important than drinking the potion that renders him safe in a school full of young children. When Albus took Lupin back to his office, he saw the potion, still beating against his door, and knew Lupin had ignored it despite his attempts to convince Albus that I had never brought it to him.”

“That slimy bastard! He deserves to be sacked then. Honestly, he deserves to be charged criminally for keeping Pettigrew’s secrets from us for so long.”

Severus nodded grimly. “You have the option to charge him.”

“ _I_ do?”

“As Pettigrew murdered your parents, the choice to charge the accessory to his escape comes down to you. As well, he attacked you, or would have done if I was not there to stop it.”

Harry shuddered. “What happens if I do charge him?”

“If Lupin were human, a few months in Azkaban.”

“And for a werewolf?”

Severus looked down and shook his head. “The Ministry does not forgive dark creatures who break the law.”

Harry’s breath left him in a rush. “They’ll kill him.”

“Or worse.”

Harry shook his head and leaned into Severus’ hand. “I can’t. I know he deserves to be punished, but to die? I… I can’t do it. I can’t kill anyone.”

“The blame does not fall upon you, child.”

“It does if I’m the one who turns him in.” Harry shook his head. “No. I can’t. Even if he might deserve it to some extent, I can’t do it knowing he’ll die whether it’s on me or not.”

Severus smoothed Harry’s hair back from his face. “Ssh. It was always your choice, child. Albus thought you would not charge him, and so we have simply decided that, if you did decide not to press charges, then we will allow Lupin to remain in the Order, but only on a probationary basis. He will not be trusted with our secrets, nor will we rely upon him in battle. It is clear that he is too much of a coward to guard either our truths or our lives.” Severus huffed. “In truth, we had discussed evicting him from the Order, and he _does_ deserve it, but to throw him out on his ear would have much the same result as pressing charges against him would do. Without some sort of protection, Lupin will not last long, not now that the Ministry knows he is a werewolf.”

“That’s all right,” said Harry with a sigh, “so long as he stays the hell away from me. This is all his bloody fault. If he’d found his bollocks long enough to admit they were Animagi before now, Pettigrew never would have escaped.”

“Yes.” Severus brushed his thumb across Harry’s cheek. “You are correct, but try not to work yourself into a frenzy. You need to rest now, little one. I, too, think I shall be able to sleep now that I know you are safe.”

“Okay. Let’s just go to bed now then. I _am_ awfully tired.”

“So am I.”

“Are you sleeping here?”

“As Xerxes, yes.”

Harry squeezed Severus’ hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course, child. I need reassurance tonight, too.”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Sev.”

“Goodnight, my friend.”

Harry watched him shift into his crow form and prayed that next year—just _one_ year—would go quietly.


	11. Dark Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer prior to Harry's fourth year with Severus as his friend. Warnings for two gruesome deaths, though they aren't described in graphic detail.

#  **Chapter 11**

##  _Dark Signs_

### 24 July, 1995

But of course, Harry didn’t have that kind of luck.

Just after three in the morning, a week before his fifteenth birthday, Harry woke up from a terrible nightmare. A nightmare that had seemed all too _real_.

And the pain in his scar left him wondering if maybe it hadn’t been.

Gods, he wished he could cast magic. Severus had, with the knowledge that Black was innocent and hadn’t been after Harry, begun sleeping at Hogwarts or Spinner’s End again, rather than curled up on Harry’s floor. But he needed Severus now. The man would come in the morning to guard him regardless, but Harry didn’t want to wait. He was terrified of his nightmares and half afraid he would forget the details by morning.

In a panic and not thinking clearly, he wandlessly Summoned a biro and a notebook with the intent to write down his dreams. It was only after he had written the third paragraph that he realised what he had done— _without_ consequences.

“Mother of Merlin, can I cast wandless magic without being caught?”

Was it possible that the Ministry tracked magic through wand use? Perhaps. Severus only used his wand for show when he cursed, and Severus had been able to use healing and curses at Privet Drive without consequence. Perhaps, since he only needed his wand for pure wizarding magic, such as general charms or transfiguration, the Ministry couldn’t track it.

Harry frowned and shook his head. If that was the case, how did he explain Dobby?

Wait.

“ _Dobby_!”

The elf appeared with a crack. It would wake up his uncle, but Harry didn’t care at the moment. Perhaps the idiot would think a nearby auto had backfired.

“Dobby, this is urgent. I need you to wake up Severus Snape, please. Tell him Harry needs him and bring him here if you can— _quietly_. Don’t wake my relatives.” A twinge of pain shot through his scar, and Harry doubled over with a gasp. “Oh, ow. Hurry, Dobby. Please.”

Dobby whispered, “Yes, Great Master Harry Potter, sir. I’s can be going quietly.”

With a soft pop, the elf vanished. Harry listened for his uncle, but the man only gave a few muffled snorts and grumbles and started snoring again.

Moments later, Severus appeared on Dobby’s arm, dressed in his nightshirt, hair mussed, feet bare, and eyes wide with worry. Harry ignored the twinge of heat in his belly at the sight of Severus’ long, shapely legs with their dusting of dark hair and patted the bed.

“Sit. We need to talk.”

“Are you well?” Severus took Harry’s face and turned him this way and that. “Dobby said you seemed to be in pain.”

“My scar hurts.”

Severus’ eyes widened. “That… is not good.”

“No, and when you hear why….”

“Merlin.” Severus sent a wave of healing into Harry’s scar and wrapped him in his wings and arms. “Right. Now that you’re feeling better, tell me what happened to bring this about.”

“A… a dream, Severus, a nightmare, but it was so… so _real_ , and when I woke up, my scar was on fire.”

“What happened?”

“I… I dreamed I was _Riddle_. That I was seeing the world through his eyes. And when I looked down, I was like… my body… it was like a baby’s, but scaly and raw and scrawny.”

“Sweet Merlin. You are describing a ghoul homunculus.”

“Er… I suppose?” Harry shuddered and snuggled closer. “Whatever it was, it scared me to death.”

“It is a small humanoid creature with a half-life, which requires constant doses of a dark potion to survive. Until now, I have only seen them referenced in theoretical studies or works of fiction.”

“A half-life and potion?” Harry whimpered and curled into Severus’ arms. “It _is_ real, then. I _am_ seeing through his eyes.”

Severus shuddered and clutched him tight. “You saw him drink this potion then?”

“N-no, but Wormtail—Pettigrew—mentioned it, that he would need the next dose soon.”

“It may still be a coincidence. What else did you see, little one?”

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “First, has someone gone missing from the Ministry?”

Severus swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Bertha Jorkins.”

“Yes. You saw her in your dream?”

“She was… vacant. Gone. Riddle had done something to her mind. And then… then he… the snake—Nagini—he _fed_ her to the bloody snake.”

Severus’ feathers fluffed out in a sign of horror and his tail wrapped around them protectively. “Oh dear fucking _Merlin_!”

“Y-yeah.” Harry sobbed and buried his head in Severus’ shoulder. “He s-said she would need strength for a ritual—Nagini, I mean—and just… she was still _alive_ , Severus. Vacant and broken, but _alive_. And… and….”

“Gods.” Severus tugged Harry into his lap and hugged him tight. “Ssh, ssh. It’s all right. It’s over now. I am here, child.”

“It was real,” Harry whispered into Severus’ neck, sobbing helplessly. “It was all real.”

Severus didn’t leave again that night.

 

* * *

 

Once Harry was up and about, doing his chores and trying not to think of the horrid visions from the night before, Severus returned home, dressed, and reported straight to Albus.

“This is a conversation for upstairs,” Severus murmured as soon as the man let him in.

Albus’ eyes widened, but he nodded and swept Severus into his quarters. “Have you had breakfast yet, dear boy?”

Severus shook his head. “I am… too upset to be hungry, to be honest. Albus, Harry’s powers as a clairvoyant have manifested. And in the worst way possible.”

Albus paused halfway through pouring a cup of tea. “Oh dear. What happened?”

“He watched—through Riddle’s eyes—as the bastard fed Bertha Jorkins to his pet snake, and while she was still alive at that.”

Albus choked and set down his tea. “Dear _Merlin_. The poor boy. Is he all right?”

“All right is up for debate, but he is coping, or I would not have left his side.” Severus leaned on his knees and gave Albus a frightened look. “Albus, what does this mean? I have never heard of clairvoyants seeing through someone _else_.”

Albus closed his eyes and nodded, and at that moment, he looked impossibly sad. “It is a rare occurrence, to be sure, but then, there is no precedent to Harry. That scar may well have bonded them. I will need to do further research.”

Severus searched the old man’s face. “Albus, do you know something?”

“I… have my suspicions. But, it would not be wise to speak of them until I have verified that it is even possible.”

“Are you certain, Albus? I will help if you wish it.”

Albus gave him a sorrowful look. “Yes, Severus, I am certain.” He finished pouring his tea and added much more sugar than usual. “I wish you to observe Harry at night. Monitor him when he dreams. Perhaps we might learn more of his visions this way.”

He sipped at his cup and frowned. “And, Severus, if he _is_ seeing through the dark lord’s eyes, we will need to proceed with caution. If Tom did not seem aware of Harry as he murdered poor Bertha, then I think it highly unlikely he has, as of yet, considered the possibility that a link between them may exist. But that may change in the future, Severus. Take great care to conceal your secrets, at least until Harry knows how to Occlude.”

Severus shuddered. “Dear gods.”

 

* * *

 

Harry flopped on his bed at nine in the evening, exhausted, hungry, and miserable. He had tried to forget his bad dreams all day, but it hadn’t worked well, and Severus hadn’t been about. Harry felt a bit abandoned as he dragged his knees to his chest and wondered if Hedwig would have gifts for him in a few hours or not. If Severus would return.

Why hadn’t he come back? Harry tried to convince himself that the yokai had simply been busy, and yet, he couldn’t banish the fear that he had simply grown tired of him. Maybe his visions had disgusted Severus. Maybe he didn’t want to be friends with a boy who saw through the eyes of a dark lord.

Or maybe he knew the strange thoughts that had toyed with Harry’s mind as Severus held him in his lap last night. Harry had been too terrified at first to notice, but as his fear waned and he began to feel comfortable in Severus’ arms, he realised he was sitting—in nothing but a tee-shirt and boxers—on Severus’ bare legs. To Harry’s surprise, the thought had caused his body to stir in ways it never had before.

Certainly not for girls, at least.

 _Pouf._ His uncle’s hateful terminology for homosexuals pinged around in Harry’s mind. _Nancy boy._ Did Severus hate gays? _Pansy._ Had he withdrawn because he _knew_ what Harry hadn’t and the knowledge had disgusted him?

_Freak._

Would he ever come back? And would he hate Harry in earnest when he did?

 

* * *

 

Severus spent the entire day researching ways to hide his identity from clairvoyants and finally landed on a spell. _Obscurus Veritas_. It would hide him under glamours even Harry couldn’t see through, he hoped.

Thus protected, Severus apparated into Privet Drive just after eleven. Harry’s light was still on, so he reckoned the boy was awake. He apparated into the room and found Harry rocking on his bed and crying into his knees.

“Harry… ssh, it’s all right.”

Harry looked up and whispered, “ _Severus_. You came back.”

Severus winced. “You thought I wouldn’t? No, Harry. I was only researching ways to be safe near you, if you are truly linked to the dark lord.”

Harry shuddered. “So you _are_ repulsed.”

Severus brought Harry into his arms and hugged him tight. “Never, little one. Never. You cannot help what you see.”

“B-but I was _him_ in the dream, Severus. I felt his feelings and thought his thoughts and… oh gods, I don’t want to be like him!”

Severus kissed Harry’s cheek, distressed to find it wet with tears. “Harry, ssh. You are _nothing_ like that monster. Peace.”

Harry whimpered and tucked his head under Severus’ chin. “Don’t leave me tonight. I’m so scared I’ll… I’ll see it again and—”

“I am going nowhere. But, Harry, we must talk. Albus believes that because of the link through your scar and your clairvoyance, it may be possible for Riddle to see through your eyes as well.”

Harry froze and jerked back. “Oh _fuck_. Se—go. Get out before he sees you!”

Severus brought Harry back into his arms. “Child, I am under glamours. He cannot see my true identity.”

“If _I_ can see you, and he’s seeing through my eyes, then your glamours aren’t going to work on him either.”

Severus pulled back with a grimace. “You are still seeing my true form?”

“Of course. Do you think I would have run to just anyone?”

“I assumed you knew it was me in spite of my appearance.” Severus shuddered. “Dear gods. That glamour is designed to work against clairvoyants. If you can see through it, I think there is nothing that will work.”

“Why? I’m not that powerful. I don’t see visions or through invisibility spells and cloaks on anyone else. Just you.”

Severus paused. “You cannot see through the cloak for anyone else?”

“No. Ron’s borrowed it loads of times and I never see him.”

“That is… strange. Why should your powers only attune to me?”

“Maybe it’s not a power. Maybe it’s just because we’re closer than anyone.”

“Magic does not work like that, Harry.” Severus sighed. “I will have to research it. In the meantime, I think this makes it absolutely necessary that you learn to Occlude properly as fast as possible.”

“Occlude?”

“To block your mind from outside influence. And until you learn, I fear I will not be able to be as overtly friendly, Harry. I am already taking a risk tonight to warn you.” He sighed and pulled Harry into his arms. “But I cannot let you think it is real. I cannot allow you to feel as if I have abandoned you when you are the dearest person to my heart.”

“Ssh.” Harry tangled his fingers in Severus’ hair, holding him tight and breathing him in, preparing himself for the hard days of separation that would soon follow. “I know.”

“I love you, child. Even if I am not able to show it for some time.”

“I love you too.” Harry kissed Severus’ cheek. “Go, before you’re seen.”

Severus whispered against Harry’s temple, I will watch over you as Xerxes as much as I can do.”

“Thank you. It’ll help. But go, please, before you’re hurt.”

“As you wish.”

With one more tight squeeze and a kiss to Harry’s cheek, Severus was gone, and Harry braced himself for a long night of bad dreams with no one to help him.

At least, until he woke up from a nightmare at two in the morning and found a crow sleeping by his pillow, his feathers brushing Harry’s hair.

“Xerxes,” Harry whispered, and fell back asleep, comforted to know he wasn’t alone after all.

 

* * *

 

Harry came upstairs on the day of his birthday to find a pile of packages on his desk and several birds watching him with curiosity. Errol, slumped over on an annoyed Hedwig and hooting weakly, a large, white box under him and a smaller red one atop it. Three tropical birds—blue macaws, Harry thought—surrounded a giant package wrapped in newspaper and leaves and tied with vine. Well, he had a good idea who had sent _that_. A plain cardboard box wrapped in twine sat beside it, under the feet of a post owl. Another post owl sat beside that one with a green and white package under her feet. Xerxes perched on a red and gold package with a silver bow and cawed softly as Harry came in.

But it was the tiny tennis ball zooming around the ceiling and hooting his head off that got his uncle’s attention.

“BOY! What is all that infernal racket?”

Harry hurriedly tossed a spare blanket over the packages and hoped his pillow would hide them from his uncle’s sight. The birds squawked, but a quiet caw from Xerxes shushed them. Could he speak to birds in his Animagus form? Either way, it did at least keep his uncle from noticing the pile of gifts and small flock of birds congregating in his bedroom, but he could do nothing about the tiny idiot fluttering around their heads.

“I _told you_ ,” Vernon boomed, “you’re not to have any of that freaky nonsense here, boy! Get that… that _thing_ out of my house! And don’t even think of sending anything to your freaky friends, boy, or I’ll have your hide.”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry said, hoping the man would take his quick assent at face value and leave.

Vernon turned and lumbered to the door. “Oh, and you’re spending the rest of the week in here for this, boy! Happy birthday, freak!”

With a vicious laugh, he slammed the door and fixed the locks. Harry sighed and sank onto the bed next to the birds.

“That went well.” He pulled the blanket off of the frightened birds and soothed them all with a pet and some of Hedwig’s treats, though the macaws weren’t interested. “Sorry about that. My uncle might have hurt you if he’d seen you. Please be quiet, okay? I’ll be hurt too if he hears you again.”

Severus formed behind Harry and spoke in his altered voice. “Child, I have a silencing charm on the room now. Forgive me that I could not place it sooner. I arrived just as you stepped inside.” He opened his hand and Summoned the puffball into his hand with a scowl. “And you, you little irritant, have just hurt my dearest friend with your idiocy. I hope you are proud of yourself.”

The tiny owl gave a dismayed hoot and calmed down.

“I don’t think he knew any better, Sev,” said Harry with a sad smile. “Anyway, sit with me and let’s see what I’ve got in here to keep me fed for the next week.”

Severus sat beside and behind Harry and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I will not let you suffer.”

“But what about our… secret?”

Severus kissed Harry’s hair. “We will work out a way around it. Perhaps Polyjuice potion will work where spells have not.”

“It’s worth a try, I suppose.” Harry opened the package from the Burrow first and salivated at the sight of a small chocolate cake with golden piping and a fondant snitch on top. “Merlin, Mum Weasley is a wonder in the kitchen. That looks delicious.” He set the cake carefully upon his desk. A bag of apples of all varieties, one full of plums, another of pears, and one with cherries—red, black, and golden—sat underneath it along with a note.

“So you don’t need to fill up with cake,” Harry read aloud. “They’re all from our orchard and should make for a nice sweet treat without rotting your teeth. Love, Molly and Arthur.”

Harry grinned and pulled a red apple from the pack. “Well, I suppose I do have a treat for you lot after all.” He produced a pocketknife from the space under his loose floorboard and cut the apple into wedges for the parrots, who all chattered happily and gobbled the fruit with a relish. “Glad you liked it.” He set the fruit aside and opened the red box Molly had attached to the top. It was a cookbook with loads of Weasley recipes. Inside, Molly had written, “ _Albus let me know you like to cook and have a real talent in the kitchen. I’m happy to know at least one of my sons has taken an interest in cooking, even if he wasn’t born to me. I hope you enjoy this, and perhaps you might send me a sample one day, if you have the time. Love, Mum.”_

Tears dropped down Harry’s face at the personal, loving gift. “Oh, Sev. Look.” He showed the Tengu his book, being careful not to look at Severus’ face.

Severus ran his fingers over the cover. “Molly loves you dearly. I am glad to know you have a mother figure still.”

Harry closed his eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to Severus’ cheek. “Thank you.”

Severus huffed. “That said Albus told her.”

“And Dumbledore has no idea I can cook. You knew I would cherish that, didn’t you?”

Severus relented and squeezed Harry tight. “You adore the book of household potions recipes she sent you, and I am not arrogant enough to think it is because you are as ardent for potions work as I am.”

“I _do_ like potions, but knowing Mum Weasley went to all the effort to put it together for me and share her personal work with me like I was one of her own, is more important. Thank you.”

Severus turned the boy so he sat atop the Tengu’s lap, his back to Severus’ chest. “You are welcome, little one. Now, let us open the package from your moronic godfather next so these tropical birds might return home. They are far too noticeable here.”

“Yes, I’ll have to send a _lovely_ letter back with them.” Harry opened the leaf-wrapped box and scowled. A strawberry cake sat atop a box of prank supplies, some quite cruel, and a stack of photos of the Marauders using them on hapless victims. A few even showed Severus suffering under their cruelty.

“Well, that’s pleasant.” Harry passed the photos to Severus. “Burn those for me, please.”

Severus sent the lot up in smoke. “What will you do with the tricks?”

“I’d like to burn them too, but I’ve no idea what it would do. Maybe I’ll give them to the twins, under the stipulation that they’re to make the pranks over into something funny for the victim as well as the pranksters and take out the cruel stuff.”

“A fair plan. The Weasley twins _do_ like their jokes, but they have never harmed anyone by them.”

“Exactly. They’re pranksters, not bullies and criminals. There’s a difference.” Harry pulled a note from Black from the bottom of the box and pushed the parcel aside.

‘Pup, I thought you might like to see the funny things we got up to with your dad and Uncle Remus. And show you that Snivellus isn’t as gr—damn it. Ask Albus to take off that gag curse? Anyway, there’s lots of toys to play with and some photos of our glory days. The cake is safe, I promise.’

Harry sniffed. “Sev, can you check that cake for pranks?”

“Scans do not always work on their tricks.”

“Deliver it to Dudley, then. If he gets tricked, he’s evil enough to have it coming. And if not, it might get him to stop whinging for five minutes.”

Severus snorted. “I shall give it to him far from the house so you are not implicated if there _is_ a trick involved. We shall see if he is as stupid enough to fall for it.”

“Yeah, he is. And hungry enough.” Harry returned to the letter and read the rest aloud. “Might be fun to use some of these against old Sevvie, huh? Get a laugh or two?” He scowled. “Gods, what a shitehead. He goes on to say, ‘Anyway, I found this owl about the island and thought Hedwig might appreciate a less gloomy companion. Love, Padfoot.’”

Harry handed the letter to Severus. “One more thing to send up in flames.”

Severus obeyed with a sneer at the offending letter.

“Right. Let me write a letter for the bastard and then you parrots can go home. Help yourselves to another apple while you wait. Or a plum. Do you eat plums?”

The macaws bobbed their heads happily, and Severus cut a plum into pieces for the birds while Harry drafted a reply.

 

 

> _To the shiteheaded-idiot who thinks torturing people is great fun,_
> 
> _I know Dumbledore told you to use discretion if you ever contacted me, and this is the absolute opposite of that. You might have gotten us both killed by sending a flock of parrots here in broad daylight. Don’t. Fucking. Do it. Again. Ever._
> 
> _I’m giving the owl to Ron. He needs one, and Hedwig clearly hates that flying puffball. She would eat him alive in a day, if it took that long. Not to mention, the little idiot got me confined to my room for a week. And I don’t mean grounded. I mean they lock me in here without food, water, or loo breaks for a week at a stretch. If not for the man you’re so determined to turn me against, I would starve to death or suffocate on my own waste because of your stupidity. Way to go, genius._
> 
> _And you’ll be happy to know Dudley will be getting the cake. I’m afraid I don’t trust you as far as I can throw Hagrid, and I quite lost my appetite anyway upon seeing how utterly cruel and horrid you really are._
> 
> _Stay the fuck away from me, you complete and utter arsehole._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Someone who is no relation to you whatsoever._

 

Severus read the letter when Harry had finished and snorted. “Well. This puts him in his place in no uncertain terms. Though I do have to wonder where you learned such language.”

Harry huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “He deserves it.”

“You will hear no argument from me.” Severus hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. “Send that with the parrots, and let us open the rest of your gifts.”

“All right.” Harry returned to his bed, closing his eyes until he felt Severus settle behind him once more. “Right, this one next.” He chose the plain package with the post owl. “I have a suspicion this is from Lupin.”

“Hmm, probably. Let us see.”

Inside was a cupcake and a book. _Understanding Anxiety and Being Supportive._

Harry scoffed and threw the book in the bin. “ _Anxiety_? Fuck that. There’s a difference between being scared and being a complete tosser.”

“Harry.”

At Severus’ warning tone, Harry sighed and laid his head back against the yokai’s chest. “Sorry, Sev. I’ll try to keep it under control. They just bring out the worst in me.”

“Well, at least the rest of your gifts should cheer you some.”

Severus nudged the red and gold one towards Harry’s side, and he opened it with a laugh. Inside was a battered potions text for OWLs level classes, newer books on magical theory, the basics of spellcrafting, and Occlumency, two journals, and a load of writing supplies, including a pencil set that reminded Harry of Dean’s for drawing.

“Oh, this is an interesting mix. Spellcrafting?”

“It will give us something to learn about while we are forbidden from practising combat magic, and we can work out the details of your theories when we return to school.”

Harry beamed. “Or you could just test them for me when you go back.”

“True.”

Harry picked up the battered text and cocked his head. “Where did this come from?”

Severus flushed. “Ah, it was… my mother’s, then mine.”

Harry gasped. “Really? Oh, wicked!” He opened the book and caught his breath. “ _Merlin_. Look at all these notes! Hermione will lose the plot, but this is brilliant! Is this so I can study potions with you even when I can’t?”

“Yes, child. I fear I will not have as much time in the future, and teaching will be difficult when you cannot look at my face. I had hoped this would help.”

Harry snuggled into him. “Thank you.” He opened the journals, intending to flip through the blank pages, but stopped dead when he saw the spidery script and drawings throughout the second. “Oh, Sev. This is your work?”

“My spells, their effects, and studies of ingredients and magical theory. Do take care with those, Harry. Some of the later spells are quite dark. Do not use any of these without knowing _exactly_ what they do and familiarising yourself with the counters first.”

“I promise. Merlin, this is amazing. I love it—it’s just so _you_. I can feel your presence in all of these. It’s brilliant.”

Severus kissed his cheek. “Did it make up for the disastrous gifts from the mutts?”

“Oh, absolutely. I can’t wait to get started. Thank you.”

Severus hugged Harry tight. “I wanted to give it to you so you know, even if I cannot spend as much time with you as I would like this year, you are family to me, Harry. I love you.”

Harry turned and buried his face in Severus’ neck. “I love you too, Sev. And you’ve always been… _more_.”

“Yes.” Severus smoothed back his hair. “And no matter what happens in the future, I always will be.”

Harry sighed and hugged him tight, basking in the love of his dearest friend. Even if they couldn’t be as close, even if he missed seeing Severus smile and laugh, knowing the yokai loved him and always would, gave him the strength to face the future. It would be all right, as long as they remembered the truth of each other and didn’t let the war and their roles get in the way.

 

* * *

 

Pettigrew’s nasal stutter jerked Harry out of pleasant dreams and into a nightmare. “My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?”

“A week,” said a cold, high-pitched voice Harry remembered from his first vision. It seemed to come through his own lips, but never in his worst nightmares had Harry ever sounded so evil. “Perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over.”

“The—the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?” said Wormtail. “Forgive me, but—I do not understand—why should we wait until the World Cup is over?”

“Because, fool, at this very moment, wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait.”

The giant snake slithered into the room and onto her master’s lap.

 _~Welcome home, Nagini,~_ Harry-Riddle said. _~Did you have a good hunt?~_

 _~No, Master,~_ she hissed in reply, _~but my trip was not wasted entirely. I found nothing of game, but I did discover an old Muggle man listening outside the door.~_

Harry’s eyes flickered to the peeling, cracked door and his lips curled into a sneer. _~A Muggle, you say? Well then, I shall provide your dinner tonight, my pet. Far be it from me to neglect one who has given so much in support of me.~_

_~Thank you, Master.~_

“Wormtail,” said Harry-Riddle in his cold, high tone once more, “it seems we have an uninvited guest. Do show him in like a proper host.”

Pettigrew scrambled to open the door, and Harry’s heart slammed into his ribs. Desperately, he tried to pull himself away from the monster’s consciousness, but not before the green light hit the old caretaker. Not before Nagini’s jaws opened wide. Not before her fangs bit into the still flesh of the old man’s neck.

Thank Merlin he hadn’t been alive to feel it this time, but, nevertheless, the sight of the aged body disappearing into Nagini’s maw still horrified him.

Harry sobbed, “Help me,” and hoped someone, anyone, heard it.

 

* * *

 

“Harry! Wake up, child!”

Severus struggled against whatever force was holding his dearest friend hostage and tried to wake him from what he had no doubt was a terrible vision. Tears streaked the boy’s face and his body trembled with horror.

“Help me,” the boy whispered, and his eyes flew open.

No, not Harry’s eyes. Red eyes, wide and unseeing. Horrified, Severus jerked the boy into his lap and buried his face in Harry’s neck. If he hid Harry’s face against his body, hid his own against Harry’s, the monster couldn’t see him, visions or no.

Knowing glamours wouldn’t work with the boy, he manually altered the pitch and timbre of his voice and called to his friend. “Harry! Child, wake up!”

Harry stiffened in his arms and gave a whimpering cry. “Oh gods, oh gods.”

“Ssh, Harry, it’s only me.”

“Oh, thank Merlin.” Harry buried his face in Severus’ chest and wept bitterly. “He—the snake—old man—fed him to it.”

“Sweet Circe!” Severus wrapped Harry in his wings and tail and held him as tight as he could. “I am here, little one. I am with you. You are safe now. He is gone.”

Harry shuddered and clutched at Severus’ hair. “D-did he see you?”

“I think not. Your eyes went red when you opened them, but it is dark and I pulled you into my chest the moment I realised.”

“My… my eyes went _red_? Sev, is he taking me over?”

“I… I do not know. You were speaking. I heard you order Pettigrew to let the old man in and mutter the words for the killing curse, and before that, a discussion of the world cup and waiting. And quite a lot of hissing throughout.”

Harry shuddered. “Parseltongue. Nagini—she saw the old caretaker. Frank Bryce was his name. And Riddle killed him.”

Severus whispered soothing love in Harry’s ear and held him tight. “I am with you, little one. It is over now.”

“I-I’m afraid to go back to sleep.”

“I will watch over your dreams, Harry. It will be all right.”

Harry sighed. “Can I sleep like this? In your arms? I feel safer.”

“If it helps you, then you may.” Severus lay them down and tucked Harry under his chin. “I will need to… _change_ once you are asleep, however. It is not safe to remain like this.”

“I know. I just… need to know you’re with me right now.”

“As you wish. I am here, child. I will hold you. Sleep. You are safe now.”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed and settled down in Severus’ arms, and Severus watched over him for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

The night before the Weasleys arrived to pick up Harry for the quidditch world cup, Severus showed up in Harry’s bedroom in his true form. Harry shut his eyes tight the second he appeared, and Severus wrapped him in a hug.

“I have missed you,” he said in a glamoured voice. “Greatly.”

Harry sighed and nuzzled Severus’ shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.”

Severus kissed the top of his head. “I came to warn you, child. I have had my ear to the ground as concerns a certain mutual acquaintance’s movements. Rumours are scarce as to his plans or whereabouts, but the remaining loyal crowd—those who escaped justice through power and influence or claims of mind alteration—are most certainly planning something. I do not know what, but you will need to take care and make sure you are never alone. I will be with you as much as possible.”

Harry shuddered. “You don’t have any idea what to expect?”

“I… have a suspicion it will be much like what we came to expect during the first wave of the war. Your bookish friend can enlighten you, I am sure, if you do not already know.”

Harry grimaced. “Do you think they’ll kill people?”

“Not if the aurors come fast enough to break it up.”

“Then we’d better have them on standby.”

“Yes.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead. “Perhaps if you were to tell Albus you had a strange vision last night about their plans, it would give him a reason to act.”

Harry understood the warning. Severus couldn’t urge the aurors into action himself, so Harry had to give Dumbledore a reason he could work with to convince them.

“Yeah, my head _has_ been hurting recently. Probably best to send a message about it with Xerxes. He’s faster than Hedwig when he needs to be.”

“Indeed.” A burst of healing magic filtered into Harry’s skin with Severus’ kiss to his scar. “Be careful, child. I cannot lose you.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

Harry had a difficult time enjoying the Quidditch World Cup with Severus’ warnings still ringing in his ears. Especially with the bloody Malfoys a few seats away. Bastards. They were probably in on whatever the Death Eaters had planned. Hell, Malfoy Senior was most likely the ringleader. _Imperius_ indeed. Aragog was positively _cuddly_ by comparison.

“Mate!” Ron squealed and grabbed Harry’s arm. “Look! You’re missing—Oh!”

Harry turned his omnoculars just in time to see Krum make a spiralling nosedive towards the ground. The Irish seeker, assuming Krum had seen the snitch, dove after him, but Krum pulled out at the last second with a shrug and resumed his lazy circles in the air. The Irish seeker, however, was not so lucky.

“Ooh,” Hermione said with a grimace. “That was barbaric.”

“That’s quidditch,” said Ron with a manic grin. “A real Wronski Feint, Harry! D’ya think we could do it on our firebolts?”

Harry coughed. _He_ probably could. Ron, however….

“Uh… maybe we should leave that one to the professionals?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll just let you have a go at it. I make a better keeper anyway.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and patted his friend’s shoulder. “You’re a brilliant keeper. But—oh, what in Merlin’s name are the mascots _doing_?”  
  
The leprechauns, angry that their seeker had been injured, had started throwing gold at the Veela. The Veela, apparently, did not like being used as target practise. The lovely women who had made Ron practically trip over his own feet earlier had gone, and harpy-like creatures with sharp beaks and shrill voices had taken their place. They charmed the gold into arrows and tossed them back at the leprechauns with much more success. It was madness.

“And that, gentlemen,” said Arthur with a wry smile, “is why one never angers a Veela.”

Harry could only nod. At that moment, he embraced his possible homosexual leanings with a vengeance. 

The Irish seeker returned to the match, a bit banged up but cheerful nonetheless, and the mascots calmed down again, though Harry swore he saw a glint of deviousness in the Veela’s eyes.  
  
Arthur definitely had the right of it. Those Veela were _scary_.

“And we’re back on,” the announcer called.

Harry spared a second to scan the skies for his crow friend, but Severus was nowhere in sight. He suppressed a shudder of foreboding and returned his attention to the match.

 

* * *

 

Ron babbled about the match all the way back to the tent. “—And did you _see_ that Wronski Feint? Merlin, it was amazing!”

Harry nudged his friend in the shoulder. “Yes, Ron. We all saw it. We were _there_.”

“And you shouted our ears off about it, too,” Hermione said with a snort.

Ron grinned. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just so exciting!”

“Yeah.” Harry frowned and rubbed his shoulders. Exciting or not, the icy pit of dread in his belly had only grown since he no longer had the distraction of the match to take his mind off his worries.

“Hey, mate,” Ron murmured, “are you okay?”

“Not really. Do you two see Xerxes anywhere?”

Hermione frowned. “I mean… it’s dark, Harry. A bit difficult to see a crow at night.”

“True. I’d just feel safer….”

Ron shuddered. “Mate, I don’t understand how. He’s so _mean_.”

“Ron, ssh. Please. Don’t say anything else. He’s already in danger. And you _know_ why.”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right.” Ron sighed and nudged shoulders with Harry. “I guess I can’t hate him. He’s watched over you for a long time, right?”

“Yeah. Saved my life over and over. Too many times to count.”

Ron nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out for him, mate, but I think Hermione’s right. It’s going to be hard to see him in this. And he’s probably making good _use_ of that fact, knowing him.”

“Yeah.” Harry looked to the sky and shivered. “I-I think we should go back to the tent. I have a really bad feeling….”

Hermione whispered, “Harry? What _kind_ of bad feeling?”

Harry motioned them in close. “My friend warned me he’s heard rumours of trouble. He thought the old crowd might get up to something tonight—something like what they used to do for fun.”

“Oh dear Merlin,” Hermione gasped out. “Please tell me you don’t mean… _revels_?”

“That’s exactly what I think he meant.”

“Shite,” Ron whispered. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Harry muttered.

 

* * *

 

Severus’ warning, of course, had proved truthful, and a crowd of revellers had captured the Muggle caravan manager’s family. As he trekked through the nearby woods trying to find Ginny and the twins, Harry tried to banish the image of them twisting and turning fifty feet in the air, the mum’s knickers on display for all to see, the little ones screaming at the top of their lungs. He shuddered and pressed on, hoping Xerxes would catch up soon. The crow hadn’t returned all night, and Harry was close to panic. Where _was_ he?

Just ahead, a masculine voice muttered something, but Harry saw nothing but a ragged little house elf in a tattered pillowcase toga. A _female_ house elf, so it couldn’t possibly have come from her. Alarmed, he moved to draw his wand, only to close his fingers around air.

“Shite,” he breathed to the others. “My wand—it’s gone!”

“What?”

The masculine voice called out, “ _Morsmordre_ ,” and green light shot into the air.

The house elf’s screech of “Oh no, you’s should not be using magic, Master,” almost faded into the screams of nearby people.

Harry looked up at the green light, searching for an explanation, and saw the same mark in the sky that marred Severus’ arm.

“Oh _gods_ ,” Harry whispered.

Suddenly, people came from every direction. “There, look! That house elf has a wand! She must have done it!”

Harry whipped around and his stomach dropped into his feet. “That’s _my_ wand. How did she…?”

“I don’t know,” said Hermione, “but we should really—”

Rough hands dragged Harry into the clearing ahead, and a gruff masculine voice called, “I’ve got him! I got the one who cast it!”

“ _What_?” Harry tried to wriggle away, but the man had a grip like iron. “But I couldn’t have—let me go! I don’t even know the spell, and I lost my wand anyway!”

“Don’t try to lie to _me_ , boy. You just keep your mouth shut and—”

Arthur emerged from the woods, a crow leading him with sharp cries. “Harry? What in Merlin’s name is going on here? What are you doing? Let him go, Bartemius!”

“Xerxes,” Harry whispered in relief. He was safe. Thank the gods, he was safe.

“Not a chance, Arthur,” said the man roughing Harry up. “We just caught this boy casting the Dark Mark.”

“Harry? Harry _Potter_ , cast the Dark Mark? Have you lost the plot?”

“Er… oh, well, but he said it was his wand, and—”

Xerxes shot at the man’s face, a caw sharp on the air. With a curse, the berk released Harry and threw his hands over his face.

“Merlin! Call off your beast, Arthur!”

“He’s not mine. He’s Harry’s.”

Xerxes huffed and landed on Harry’s shoulder, plucking at the boy’s hair as if to make sure he was safe. Harry smoothed a hand down his back.

“Where _have_ you been?”

The crow gave a low caw, and Harry reckoned Severus’ story would just have to wait.

 

* * *

 

As Severus couldn’t risk transforming before the Weasleys and blowing his cover, until Harry left the Burrow and had a moment to himself, Severus’ whereabouts during the cup would remain a mystery. In the meantime, Harry had to deal with Hermione’s never-ending rants about _spew_ or whatever it was and Ron’s constant rehashing of the scenes after the quidditch world cup and what it could mean. Merlin, as much as he loved his friends, he couldn’t wait for a break.

They didn’t have any new information about the revel anyway. The younger crew had put it down to a bunch of Voldemort supporters out to cause a ruckus and stir up panic for the hell of it. Even the adults tried to encourage that line of thought, but Harry had seen the worry in Arthur’s eyes. The way Molly shepherded her children in earlier and earlier, as if afraid they might be snatched away if she let the moonlight touch them. He saw the way Xerxes shadowed him constantly, always keeping him in sight even if he didn’t always stay close.

He saw, and he knew. Whether or not the revellers had had darker intentions that night, _something_ had happened to scare the adults. And when wiser, more experienced people were afraid, he would be a fool not to worry.

At least he hadn’t had more nightmares. Well, not of the Voldemort-induced variety. He would see those poor Muggles tortured in his dreams for a long time to come, he feared.

Harry slipped away from his friends, claiming a need to check on Hedwig and Xerxes, and made his way to the orchard. Thank the gods, it was quiet there. Peaceful.

At least until a certain black crow landed beside him and pecked at Harry’s pocket, where he usually kept his cloak. Harry draped it over the bird and closed his eyes as Severus shifted into human form beside him. Warm arms wrapped him up and soft feathers blanketed him in peace.

“ _Merlin_ , I’ve missed you,” Harry murmured into Severus’ shoulder.

A gentle kiss fell on his hair. “Yes, I have missed you as well. I never feel quite at ease unless you are near.”

“It helps when you’re Xerxes, but it’s not the same.”

“No.” Severus laid his head on Harry’s hair. “Child, I am here with news. You have been wondering what took me so long at the cup, yes?”

“Yeah. Thought you’d come back long before you did, though your timing _was_ perfect.”

Severus growled. “There are Death Eaters, and then there is Bartemius Crouch Senior. They are two sides of the same galleon.”

“So we saw.” Harry snuggled closer. “Will Winky be okay?”

Severus shook his head. “I do not know. Most house elves do not take well to freedom, particularly forced freedom. Your Dobby is an odd elf.”

“I’m not positive he’s all elf. He’s pretty barmy compared to the rest of them—maybe there’s something else mixed in his blood. But even if he is a pure house elf, the Malfoys are annoying enough to make anyone long to be away from them after five minutes. Imagine living your entire _life_ at their mercy.”

Severus snorted, though his eyes held an edge of something sorrowful. “That explains Dobby’s eccentricity. Having to live with Lucius Malfoy for years at a time would drive anyone mad.”

Harry chuckled and wrapped his hand in Severus’. “True. But we probably don’t have long before we’re caught. What happened that night?”

Severus sighed. “I spent most of the early hours eavesdropping on Malfoy Senior. While it seems he _did_ arrange for the capture and torture of the Roberts family—”

“I _knew_ it,” Harry muttered.

Severus continued with a wry nod. “Yes. He did organise that much, but he did _not_ have greater plans. It was never his intent to release the Dark Mark. In fact, all of those present I knew of with ties to the Dark Lord were afraid when it shot into the air. At least, those I was able to see. I did not stay long—I feared for you—but the looks on their faces when the mark appeared… they were horrified, Harry.”

“It didn’t go up around the revellers anyway. There was a male voice around Winky, then the Dark Mark shot up.”

“With your wand, I know. But I do not know who released it.”

“Winky called him ‘Master.’”

“ _Master_? How strange. It could not have been Barty Crouch Senior, but the only other male in his family died years ago in Azkaban.”

“Who?”

“His son—Barty Crouch Junior. He was captured in the first war as a Death Eater. His own father sentenced him to Azkaban for life. That should tell you what kind of man Crouch Senior is.”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Harry breathed. “That’s… gods.”

“Yes.” Severus hugged Harry tighter. “I am sorry I do not have greater intelligence for you, little one. I will look into the Crouches, however. Perhaps there is a male relative I do not know of at this time. For now, I only have one more bit of information to offer. There is something unusual happening at Hogwarts this year. Albus has asked me not to tell you—I suppose he wants to surprise you with it—but regardless, _do_ stay out of it. You are too high profile and too at-risk to be involved in anything that will draw further attention if we can possibly avoid it.”

 “Fair enough. I’m not exactly in the market for _more_ fame, as it happens.”

Severus chuckled. “Yes, you have better sense than I did at your age.”

“We’re just different people. You’re still a good man, even if you had different needs and experiences than I did.”

“Thank you, child.”

Severus’ fluffy tail curled around Harry’s legs, and Harry petted it with a smile. He kept his eyes closed, just in case.

“Se… Merlin. I need a safe name to call you.”

“Yes, I have been thinking about that. Perhaps… Azrael.”

“Azrael?”

“An angel of destruction and renewal, according to the Christian mythos.”

Harry chuckled darkly. “Well, that’s apt.”

“Indeed.”

 

* * *

 

Besides discovering that the elder Weasleys all knew what kind of surprise Hogwarts had in store for them too, Harry learned nothing new on his way to school. At least, not until a Grim bounded out of nowhere and leapt at him.

Black. The fucking idiot.

The dog barked ferociously at the sight of Xerxes and tackled Harry in an attempt to bite the crow. Harry went flying backwards into a group of terrified bystanders and landed flat on his back, winded and seeing stars. His head throbbed and his breath came short until soft green light entered his field of vision and drove away the pain. He came to with Ron’s crouched near his head and Hermione putting her wand away.

Ron muttered, “You okay, Harry?”

Harry shook himself and clambered to his feet. “Fine, but where…?”

Ah. There. Xerxes flew in circles above the platform, glaring down at the Grim snarling and barking several yards below. The passers-by had all backed away, some with wands drawn, staring at the vicious dog with wide eyes.

“ _Oi_! Mutt!”

Harry’s sharp call and a kick aimed at the Grim’s ribs brought Black to heel. He would have liked to curse the shitehead, but figured that would draw more attention than he wanted to his ever-growing skill in duelling—something Severus and Dumbledore had both been adamant he should keep quiet as much as possible.

 The dog whined and dropped its tail between his legs. Ron and Hermione formed a screen between Harry and the crowd on the platform, and Harry thanked them with a gruff nod.

“It’s all right, everyone,” Harry called. “He must have followed me from home. My neighbour’s dog, you know. Hates my familiar, the idiot. Anyway, we’ve got him now. Sorry about that. Is everyone okay?”

They all nodded and moved on.

“Hermione,” Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “make sure no one sees this.”

Wards and a powerful Notice-Me-Not went up around them. “There you are. Do try not to kill him.”

Harry gave a dark laugh. “No promises.”

Black whined pathetically.

Once Harry was sure it was safe, he grabbed the dog’s ear and jerked his head up. “Now that we’re out of sight, get this through your thick skull, you fucking bastard,” he snarled, low so only the idiot could hear. “You are a godsdamned idiot and your foolhardy tricks are going to get us all killed. First the bloody parrots, now you show up as a Grim at Platform 9 ¾ and nearly knock me and ten other people unconscious? Are you _trying_ to draw the Death Eaters’ and the Ministry’s attention?”

Black whined and tried to lick Harry’s hand, but Harry jerked it back and grabbed the dog’s ear again.

“Don’t you fucking try to apologise now, you manky bastard! You could’ve gotten us all killed. Just stay the fuck away from me and stay the fuck away from Xerxes. I want nothing to do with you _or_ Lupin, you stupid, cruel, pigheaded wanker. You and your idiot friends ruined your chances with me before I was even _born_ , and….” He leaned down and hissed, “If you hurt Xerxes, if you lay one goddamned finger—or any other part of you—on him ever again, I’ll fucking kill you and _enjoy it_ , is that clear?”

The grim gave a whining yelp and nodded vigorously.

“Good. Now get the hell out of my sight and _stay_ out of it.”

Harry had never seen a dog run so fast.

Xerxes gave his crow’s laugh, a sort of low ‘ _caw-caw-caw_ ’ that imitated the cadence of human laughter, and landed on Harry’s shoulder once more.

Harry grinned wickedly. “Yes, I think that rather put him in his place, don’t you?”

Xerxes laughed again and tugged Harry’s hair, giving a low chirr of worry.

“I’m okay, Xerxes. Little shaken up. I was afraid he’d bite you. Are you all right?”

Xerxes rubbed Harry’s cheek and fluffed his feathers.

“Thank Merlin.”

With a last pet to Xerxes’ smooth chest, Harry turned to find Ron staring at him with wide eyes and all his freckles standing out in stark relief.

“What?”

Ron choked out, “Mate, you’re bloody _scary_ when you’re hacked off.”

Harry snorted. “Reckon Riddle won’t stand a chance, yeah? I’ll just filet him verbally and we’re done.”

Hermione laughed, though even she looked a little unsettled. “He’s right, you know. That was… intimidating.”

“Good. Maybe the shitehead will catch a clue.”

“Well, if he doesn’t get the picture after that,” said Ron with a shudder, “then he’s thicker than we thought.”

“And that’s saying something,” said Hermione with a sniff.

Harry laughed and followed his friends onto the train.


	12. Harry Potter and the Cup of Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I FOUND A WORKAROUND! It's still a pain in the ass, but at least I can update again, though it won't be as fast as usual. I have too many projects going as I had to start something else while my pc was down. So, yay! I can finally take stuff off hiatus! (Assuming this works as planned.)
> 
> IT WORKED! HALLE-FREAKING-LUJAH!

#  **Chapter 12**

##  _Harry Potter and the Cup of Doom_

###  _1 SEPTEMBER, 1995_

The Tri-Wizard tournament! Merlin. So _that_ was what Dumbledore had wanted to surprise Harry with. Well, it was definitely a surprise, but Harry wasn’t sure he liked it. By the look on the yokai’s face, Severus wasn’t as thrilled with the idea as Dumbledore either. 

The old man probably only meant to bring a little joy and distraction to their lives, or perhaps he wanted to protect Harry and keep him innocent as long as he could, but Harry wasn’t a fool. Whatever the headmaster had intended by hosting the tournament this year, bringing in scores of unknowns, including some from a school well-known for turning out dark arts users, would also bring in liabilities. Dangerous liabilities.

Well, at least they couldn’t fault the defence teacher this year. Though he looked… odd, to say the least, anyone could see the man knew his stuff. And he hadn’t been interested in Harry beyond mild curiosity. Severus, however, had seemed uncertain about him. Wrong-footed. Harry wondered what was wrong and if Xerxes would visit that evening after the other Gryffindors had turned in for the night.

Ron prattled on to Hermione in breathless tones. “The _Tri-Wizard_ , ‘Mione! I can’t believe it. It’s been over a century since the last one.”

Hermione sniffed and returned to scribbling notes in her Spew journal. “Yes, because the participants of the last tournament were all either killed or maimed horribly. That sounds like the _perfect_ way for _adolescents_ to have a spot of good, wholesome fun.”

Harry gulped. “Killed? Really?”

“Well, yeah,” said Ron with a frown, “but you heard Dumbledore. They’ve put up all kinds of protections and such so the participants won’t be in any _real_ danger.”

“And that’s worked out so well the past three years here, has it?”

Ron flushed. “Er… m-maybe you have a point, mate. Maybe I won’t have a go at the age-line after all.”

“That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said all night.” Hermione huffed and bent over her notes. 

Ron’s nose turned up in a scowl. “Just ‘cause I’d rather do active things than study, it doesn’t make me stupid, ‘Mione.”

She looked up, frowning. “Well, of course not. I never meant to imply that you’re stupid. It’s just that this tournament is so dangerous.”

Harry nodded and sat beside her. “And not just because of the risk of the tournament itself. Think about it. We’re bringing in at least twelve unknowns from the other two schools—thirteen, if you count the headmasters. And that means we’ll have twenty-six liabilities coming onto the school grounds, any of whom might be Death Eaters.”

“Merlin,” said Ron with a wince. “What do we do then?”

“Be careful, that’s all we can do. Just don’t talk to the new students alone until we’re sure they’re safe. Let me get Azrael’s report on them first, and we can go from there.”

Ron nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, mate, I never would’ve believed it before this summer, but he really _is_ doing his best to keep you in one piece, isn’t he?”

“He’s my first, best friend, Ron. Well, you two are my best friends that are my age, but he’s… I dunno.” Harry looked away lest they see the blush creeping up his face. “He’s… more. I don’t know how to describe it. But he’s always been there for me. Always. And I… well, I love him for that.”

“ _Love_ him?” Ron lowered his voice to a whisper. “But he’s a bloke, mate. And… er… older.”

Harry bit his lip. “I didn’t actually mean like that, Ron. It’s the same way I love you two, only….”

Hermione gave him a knowing look. “Only _more_?”

“Y-yeah.” 

So Hermione had discovered his growing fancy already. Damn. Harry couldn’t keep anything from her, apparently. He tried not to think of what it might cost them if she ever ferreted out his most dangerous secret.

Ron shook his head wryly. “Well, to each their own, I guess. Is he, you know, _nicer_ away from the public?”

“He’s the gentlest, kindest person I know,” Harry whispered.

“ _Really_? Him? That’s… well, I reckon it’s something I’ll have to see to believe. But as long as you’re happy, mate—that’s what’s important.”

“Just so.” Hermione fixed a cat-got-the-canary grin on Ron. “And with that said, what, precisely, is wrong with the idea of a man loving another man? Romantically, I mean?”

Ron rubbed his neck. “Well, it’s just… it’s frowned upon.”

“Why? Why should it matter if they’re happy with each other? It’s not hurting you.”

Ron grimaced. “No. It’s just that, well, the magical population is getting smaller, ‘Mione. So wizards like couples to make children, where they can.”

Hermione huffed. “And what if I don’t want children? Will I be looked down upon just because I chose not to bear?”

“Er… you might do, yeah.” Ron sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, I’m not saying it’s _right_. If it were up to me, I’d say let people be happy and be done with it. It’s none of our business what other couples do, really. But the other purebloods don’t much think that way. Even Mum. Well, she doesn’t mind gays, but she… well, I mean, she has seven kids. She doesn’t really understand women who don’t want them.”

Hermione laid her quill aside for the first time in days, her expression pensive. “So you’re saying that you, personally, don’t have prejudices against gays and women who don’t want kids, but the wizarding world does? Are there laws against either?”

“No, it’s just frowned-upon. All I’m saying is you might catch it from some folks if you don’t want to turn yourselves into baby genies. It’s barmy, but that’s how it is.”

“Baby genies?” Harry chuckled. “Is that like baby factories?”

“If baby factories make lots of babies, then yes.”

Hermione shook her head. “More and more I wish we had a wizarding culture course for those of us who aren’t born into the wizarding world. Muggleborns and Muggle-raised are just thrown to the sharks and expected to thrive. It’s not fair.” Her eyes took on a steely gleam, and she summoned another notebook. “Ron, I want you to tell me everything you know about pureblood culture that I won’t find in a book.”

He gulped and leaned back. “Er… I’ll try?”

A chuckle escaped Harry. “You’ll survive.” He heard his dormmates talking behind him and frowned. “Hermione, you should get Nev in on this. And Azrael might be able to help too. Someone needs to fix this mess, and I’m putting my money on you.”

Hermione beamed. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

“A better one than spew at any rate,” Ron muttered.

Hermione glared and Banished her spew notebook somewhere. “It’s S.P.—”

“—E.W.,” Ron and Harry finished at once.

“We know,” said Ron with a wry laugh that faded to a frown. “Actually, ‘Mione, your views on house elves is a great place to start as far as pureblood culture goes. You see, they—house elves, I mean—don’t _want_ to be free, most of them. Dobby’s an odd duck. Most of the others are all scared to be alone. And if you get a house elf into a decent family, they’re happy. They like to work, and they really like making their people happy.”

Ron’s eyes turned dark. “The problem comes when you get house elves in families like the Malfoys or with Crouch. Decent people will treat their elves well, but arseholes like that will hurt them. And there’s _nothing_ to be done. There aren’t any laws or ethics codes for house elves _at all_. And I reckon that’s where you need to start with your S.P.E.W. campaign, ‘Mione. Make life better for them first. Offer them protection from bastards and education. Write laws against house elf abuse and get them passed. Make safe places for them to recover when they have been abused. _Then_ set them free, those who want to be. By then, maybe more of them than just Dobby will take it.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and she caught Ron into a tight hug. “I thought you didn’t care at all, but you _do_. You just see things differently.”

Ron nodded and ruffled her hair. “Of course I care. I just don’t think freeing them all whether they want to be or not is a good idea. Especially when we don’t have anything to do for the ones we do free, and they’ll be cut off and left with nothing and no one.”

Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes. “You… you’re right. We’ll do it that way, Ron. Will you help me with the pureblood side of things while I work on getting a code of ethics and some kind of rehabilitation centre established?”

“I’ll be happy to help with the centre,” said Harry with a nod. “I don’t know how much I can afford, but house elves don’t ask for much and might be overwhelmed if we give them too much too soon anyway, so I reckon we could manage to build or buy a small one with some of my inheritance.”

Hermione beamed, though her eyes were still wet. “You two lovely boys. Thank you! I think we can do it one day, don’t you? Make this world a better place for the underdogs?”

“Well, all that fame as the Chosen One has to be good for something, right?”

Hermione and Ron laughed. Harry grinned, just happy to be talking of making things better for once rather than all the ways everything could go wrong. In that moment, he felt like a normal teenager, and he had precious few of those moments lately. It was good, he thought, to cherish them while he could.

“Dobby could probably give us an idea of what a house elf just out of their home might need to recover. We can try asking him, next we see him.”

“That sounds lovely, Harry.” Hermione wrote down his suggestions, her lips curved in a bright smile. “What’s next?”

* * *

Severus waited until he could be reasonably sure the other boys had gone to bed before he flew to Harry’s bedside as Xerxes. The boy lay ensconced in his curtains and blankets, staring at the roof of his four-poster, but he jumped when Severus came in.

“Oh, hi, Xerxes. Could you tell me if I’m doing better at clearing my mind without… you know?”

Without assuming his human form. Could he perform Legilimency while in the body of a crow? A worthy question. And, perhaps, a useful one, considering his occupation. 

He fixed his eyes on Harry’s and stared into their emerald depths. _‘Legilimens,’_ he said mentally, and nodded as a few scattered images filtered through. Worry about Harry’s dreams and the tournament—well, at least Severus need not warn him about _that_ risk. He also saw the boy’s happiness that Severus had come and a few thoughts of plans to reform the community for Muggleborns and creatures, but overall, the boy had made progress. Either that, or Severus’ ability to read minds diminished while he went about in crow form. Still, at least he could read enough to get an idea of his targets’ plans where necessary. 

He lifted his wings in imitation of a shrug and pecked Harry’s cloak pocket. With a nod towards the curtains, Severus hoped he had made his needs clear enough. 

“All right.” 

Harry covered them both with his invisibility cloak and carried Severus out of the dorm, heading for an empty classroom on the fifth floor as he couldn’t very well go to Severus’ office until he could keep the Dark Lord out. After Harry draped the cloak over Severus and stepped aside, Severus shifted into human form and warded the room well. Thus assured of their safety, he moved to stand behind Harry, altered the pitch of his voice to Azrael’s low tenor, and removed the cloak. 

“Child, I was able to read some thoughts in your mind as your other friend, but not as clearly. I do not know if it is because you have improved or if my powers are less in that form. I will test it later and let you know. Either way, I thank you for the suggestion. The ability to read minds while in disguise may well save all of our lives.”

He enfolded Harry in a hug and whispered, “And now for my news: Igor Karkaroff is the headmaster of Durmstrang, and he is—or rather, was—a Death Eater. He claimed to be under the _Imperius_ curse, but the truth is that very few Death Eaters were truly cursed, and those few _acted_ as someone under the curse. No will of their own, vacant expressions, lifeless eyes. One could easily tell who was truly cursed and who was not, and Karkaroff was never cursed.”

Harry tensed in his arms. “Do you think he’s after me? Is he behind the Dark Mark at the cup or the plans you’ve heard of recently?”

Severus hesitated. “Doubtful. While Karkaroff _is_ a threat, I do not believe him to be loyal to the Dark Lord. In fact, it would be… quite unfortunate for him should Riddle return. During his trial, Crouch Senior decided that the _Imperius_ excuse was not enough of a reason to let a dark wizard live, and so Karkaroff bargained for his life and freedom with names. He revealed the identities of every Death Eater he knew, including Crouch’s son. They let him off with a lighter sentence, but, as you might imagine, the Death Eaters are not particularly happy with him.”

“He’s definitely not behind Riddle’s hunt for power then,” said Harry with a shake of his head. “It would be a disaster for him if it succeeded.”

“Yes. However, he still maintains dangerous beliefs, so do be careful around him and his students, particularly as I do not know which of them would be loyal to Riddle’s cause.”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus hugged him tighter. “Call me by my name. At least, the safe one. I rather enjoy hearing it.”

Harry chuckled and leaned into his embrace. “Yes, Azrael.” 

Severus smirked. It _was_ a rather fitting name. “I do like hearing that. Now, as for the other unknowns, I also wish you to be careful around Professor Moody. Besides the fact that he is quite as stringent in his hatred of anything dark as Crouch Senior, if not as ruthless, there is something… _off_ about his aura. I do not know what it is. I cannot sense darkness on him, but it feels as though there is a void, that something which should be present, isn’t. Until I am certain of what it is, please be on your guard around him.”

“Yes, Azrael.”

Severus squeezed Harry’s hands. “Also, your plans to reform society are admirable, but they may need to wait until after the war. There is too much corruption in the Ministry at the moment to make much headway. It will, perhaps, be less once Riddle and his supporters are defeated.”

“I’ll let Hermione know.”

“Good.” Severus rested his head on Harry’s. “Is there anything you wish to speak to me about, child?”

“I think you covered all my fears. I don’t need to worry about the tournament itself, do I? I’m not of age.”

Severus grimaced. “One can only hope.”

Harry shuddered and leaned closer to Severus. “I’m scared. All of this—it’s leading to something… bad, isn’t it?”

“I truly hope not. With everything I am, I hope not.”

Harry tugged Severus’ arms about his waist and shivered in his embrace. “Me, too.”

* * *

Three days after said incident, Ron had still not stopped breaking into random chuckles over the memory of ‘Malfoy, the Great Bouncing Ferret.’ Harry was torn. While he couldn’t deny the prat had some kind of pain coming and the humiliation might take his head out of his arse an inch or two, turning a student into an animal and then _beating_ said animal against the stone floor was… harsh. Ron didn’t agree. In spite of Harry’s warning, Moody could do no wrong in Ron’s eyes from that moment on. 

Hermione, however, had no qualms putting into words the icky feeling creeping down his spine that Harry couldn’t articulate.

“Yes, Ron,” she said in exasperation after the five-hundredth random chuckle of the day, give or take a few. “It’s brilliant that Malfoy got a bit of comeuppance for being such a vile prat, and he might have even deserved it, but think about this from the other side for a moment. Moody might have broken Malfoy’s spine like that. He might have permanently paralysed him, and there are some injuries not even magic can fix. Evil prat or not, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Ron bellowed, “Hermione! That’s not—”

“Ssh.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And if Moody is cold enough to do it to Malfoy, a student under his care, he’s cold enough to do it to _us_ , should we cross him.”

Ron’s annoyance vanished in an instant. “Wait, really? Do you think he would?”

She shrugged. “I’ve no idea. We already know he has a grudge against the dark, so it might have just been him trying to exterminate another ‘villain’. But that, in and of itself, is cause to be cautious. Especially since Malfoy is still technically a child.”

“And one under his authority at that,” Harry added. “He might not attack us, Ron. He might’ve just gone after Malfoy because he hates them. But I don’t like it either way.”

“Nor I,” Hermione said with a shudder.

Ron gave an aggrieved sigh. “I _suppose_ I’m not happy about it either, if you put it like that.”

Harry gave him a wry grin. “We’ll wipe up Malfoy elsewhere, mate. Like quidditch.”

“But we’re not _having_ quidditch this year.”

Harry chuckled. “Well, I reckon then we’ll just have to wipe the floor with him in class, yeah?”

Ron grimaced. “Good luck with that. I’ll just be over here, silently fuming against the injustice of it all.”

Harry snorted and bumped Ron’s shoulder. “We’ll fume together then and leave the wiping up to Hermione.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her Arithmancy tables.

* * *

Harry waited on pins and needles for the Defence class to end so he could check on Neville. Gods. He knew they had to understand the Unforgiveables and what they meant if they intended to fight a war against Death Eaters and Riddle, but damn! Harry hadn’t expected the man to whip them out in a class full of fourth years—especially when at least two of them had lost their families to said curses and were already intimately familiar with their effects and their costs. And worse, Moody had left the pain curse on until the second spider’s legs had curled up, until it stopped twitching….

Until Neville screamed for him to stop and dashed out of the room. 

Harry and Hermione had stood immediately, and Ron just after, but Moody had stopped them before they could run after Neville.

“Let him be, you lot. Needs a moment to himself, he does. To collect his wits.”

Harry might have ignored him and run after Neville anyway if not for Severus’ warning about the man. Disobeying orders and skiving off most of his first class with the man would definitely bring more attention on him than he wanted.

Damn. He promised Neville mentally he would make it up to him later and slunk back into his seat.

“Now,” said Moody with a sharp-eyed stare. “Which of you would you say is the best at Defence?”

Everyone except his closest friends pointed to Harry, who slumped lower in his seat and tried to smash his fringe over his eyes. Was his face actually on fire?

Both Moody’s eyes fixed on Harry. “Potter, hmm? Well, I suppose that’s not much of a surprise, considering… historical events.” 

The man’s one natural eye took on a gleam Harry didn’t like. He opened his mouth to protest, then decided he didn’t want this man to know any of his secrets. Even if it meant he had to endure fame he hadn’t earned. His mum had done all the hard work that night, but if the wrong person overheard that, then Voldemort would learn of it too. And Moody, for all Harry knew, might be the wrong person.

Moody pointed to a space of floor in front of his desk. “Front and centre, Potter.”

Harry gulped and wondered if it was too late to run from class after all.

“Anyone ever try to control you, Potter?”

* * *

He should have run after Neville. Taking care of his friend would have gained Harry far less infamy than his largely inexplicable ability to block the _Imperius_ curse. By the time he had finished making sure Neville was okay and headed for lunch, rumour of his unusual talents had already circulated the school. 

Shite. This wasn’t good. Well, none of it was, really. Regardless of whether Harry had been able to block the curse or not, what kind of professor used an _Unforgiveable_ on a student?

Merlin, Harry didn’t like any of this mess.

He sighed as he took his seat at the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione on either side of him. It seemed this year’s defence professor would be just as dangerous as the last three. Damn his luck, and damn Dumbledore’s hiring decisions. He shot the old man a glare, then levelled the same expression at Severus, several times in a row. A return glare assured Harry Severus had understood his tacit request for a meeting, thank the gods. He really needed Severus’ advice.

Someone said his name, and Harry turned to find Fred and George watching him with identical expressions of mischief, with a healthy dose of awe mixed in.

“Little brother,” said George—at least Harry thought it was George, “did you _really_ block the _Imperius_ curse in defence today—”

“Or is it just—”

“The usual Hogwarts hero story?”

Harry grimaced. “It’s… damn.”

“Why the long face, mate?”

“I’d think you’d be happy to know—”

“That the next time one of Lord Mouldy-Shorts’ minions tries to control you—”

“You can just laugh in his face.”

“Kick back and have a butterbeer.”

“Bit of a nosh.”

“Nice little kip.”

Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Look, you two, it’s not that simple. Yes, it’s great I can block it—”

“But of course,” said Fred with a devious grin. “That means we’ve found—”

“A new tester for our products in the making!”

“Ickle Ronniekins will be so relieved.”

Harry shot them both a dark look that shut them up. “This isn’t a joke.”

“Harry’s right,” said Hermione. “It’s good he can block the curse of course, but the problem is that everyone _knows_ now. And it’s going to bring more attention onto him. More _dangerous_ attention.”

“And now the Death Eaters will know he can resist the curse,” said Ron with a shake of his head. “So Harry’s lost the element of surprise. He’s lost a potential method of escape if he _is_ cornered again. And we all know You-Know-Who’s crowd is bound and determined to get to him.”

“Which means, in layman’s terms,” said Harry, “they won’t be stupid enough to use the one Unforgiveable I can escape. Instead, they’ll go straight to torturing or murdering me.”

The twins winced. “That’s… a right good point,” said Fred. 

“Sorry, mate,” George said, subdued. “We didn’t know it was that dangerous.”

“Yeah.” Harry relaxed marginally. “Just don’t go making the rumours worse, please.”

“Sure, Harry,” said Fred. 

“We’ll look out for you.”

“Weasleys stick together.”

“Like glue.”

“Or Spellotape.”

“Filch’s eyebrows.”

“And various other questionable substances.”

Harry gave them a wan smile. “Thanks.”

In the lull after their conversation, Ron stabbed viciously at a banger and huffed. “I reckon I was wrong about that bastard after all, Harry. What kind of prick casts an Unforgiveable on a teenager for a _demonstration_?”

“I don’t know. It’s creepy for sure.”

“More like _criminal_ , ” Hermione muttered into her pumpkin juice.

“Yeah.”

Harry spent the rest of his lunch hour trying to ignore the sounds of his housemates and peers discussing his feats and his history in hushed whispers. 

On the way to Transfiguration, he dragged Ron and Hermione into an alcove, cast a silencing charm and a Notice-Me-Not, and pulled them in close so no one could read his lips even if they managed to see past his spells. 

“Listen, you two. The _Imperius_ thing is worse than you know. I don’t want to risk talking about it here, but we’re meeting Azrael later. All of us. Not sure where or when yet, but he’ll let me know.”

Ron grimaced. “Mate, I know he likes you, but is he going to want to meet _us_?”

“He’ll be fine. Just remember not to screw up his name.”

“Definitely,” Hermione said, her expression grim. “It’s far too dangerous to reveal him given… well, you know, Harry.”

“Yeah.” 

Ron shuddered. “I don’t know that I like calling him that, but I will, for your sake, Harry. I’ll make sure not to cock it up.”

“Thanks, mate.” Harry patted his shoulder. “It’ll be all right. But we’d better get to class now before we’re late.”

“Lead the way,” said Hermione.

* * *

After dinner, Severus led Harry and his friends—who apparently intended to tag along for this meeting—into an empty classroom on the third floor. He shut the door and motioned for them to remain silent and still while he warded it to hell and back. 

“Now that we are safe to speak,” said Severus in Azrael’s tenor, “please, remember only to refer to me by the name I have chosen to use while acting as Harry’s ally.”

“They know the cost, Azrael,” said Harry, his eyes closed. “They won’t reveal you.”

“Thank you.” Severus moved to embrace Harry from behind and held him tight. “When I heard what he had done to you, I was so furious I nearly lost control of my magic. It has been years.” He whispered against Harry’s temple, “Gods, I am so relieved you are safe.”

Harry tugged Severus’ hands into his own. “It’s okay, Az. I’m right here.”

“Az. Hmm. I rather like it.” Severus kissed Harry’s temple and stepped back, leaving his arms around the boy. “Albus investigated the spells used in today’s demonstration and found, to his chagrin, that the Ministry did indeed approve its use, so long as Moody did nothing truly harmful. I am afraid your dashed knees do not count in this case, Harry, as he did not _intend_ to harm you.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Harry muttered. “Bloody Ministry idiots.”

Granger’s and Weasley’s eyes widened.

“Harry,” Hermione chided.

“What?” Harry shook his head wryly. “Trust me, you two, Az has heard me say much worse.”

“Indeed. All it takes is one mention of Lupin or Black and your language devolves quite spectacularly.”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “Yes, well, those fucking pieces of shite deserve the worst of my vocabulary. Bloody cowards.”

Granger sucked in a sharp breath. Weasley choked on his tongue. Severus smirked at them both.

“As Harry said, I _have_ heard worse. I will remind you that we are friends. Close friends. I am his confidant. As such, I am the one he comes to when he is angry or afraid. I am quite used to it, though there _is_ a limit to what I will tolerate.” He squeezed Harry’s shoulder to let him know he needed to control his tongue. “That said, we have more important things to discuss. Albus has already dragged Mad-Eye’s side of the story out of him, and several students were able to collaborate it. However, I would like to hear your side.”

Harry shuddered under his hand. “Moody _Imperiused_ me. He ordered me to jump on the desk, and I started to, but then my wits kicked in.” He touched his upper arm to let Severus know he meant the armband he had given him last year. “I resisted the curse, but as I’d already started to jump, I ended up hitting my knees on the desk. When that failed, he tried to _Imperius_ me to dance and flap my arms like a chicken. But I’d already learned to resist it, so I only gave a little half-flap before I stopped the curse.”

Harry’s posture went rigid and his hands clenched into fists. “That’s what the students saw, but in my mind, it was worse. After that, he put all his power behind the curse and ordered me to tell him how I was resisting him. It was… so much harder to fight. But I knew if I revealed the reason, Azrael would be in danger. So I fought him off with everything I had, and I won.”

He shivered and stepped backwards into Severus, tugging the man’s arms around his chest. “But it was the darkness in the curse that really scared me. I don’t know if it was from the magic or from Moody himself, but it felt so _wrong_. So evil. I… I was terrified.”

Severus tightened his arms around Harry and shuddered. “Harry… child, are you well? Have you noticed anything strange since he cast the spell?”

Harry shook his head. “Other than being scared, no.”

Severus stepped back and pulled out his wand. “Nevertheless, I would feel safer if I verified your state of health. May I cast a diagnostic on you, Harry?”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. “I trust you, Az. Do what you need to do.”

Severus ran his hand through Harry’s messy curls once, then cast a complete diagnostic on the boy. It appeared he had begun his journey towards sexual maturity, judging by the levels of testosterone in his system, and perhaps that explained the lack of sleep—or his nightmares might—but beyond that, he appeared to be completely normal.

“I see nothing of concern, but I would feel safer if you saw Madam Pomfrey before curfew to verify my results.”

“Yes, Azrael,” said Harry.

“Thank you.” Severus tugged the boy into a hug. “Please, be careful.”

“I will. I promise.”

Severus released him with a discreet kiss atop the boy’s head. “I am glad of it.”

“Azrael,” said Hermione, her voice tentative, “what… what does this mean? Do you have any idea why an auror captain is acting so… strangely?”

Severus sighed and closed his eyes. “If it were anyone but Mad-Eye, I would think he had been _Imperiused_ himself. However, Alastor is notoriously paranoid and strange. For example, near the start of term, he was written up for violating the secrecy act. He had charmed a set of dustbins in his front lawn as a trap to frighten off intruders, but they flew at the Muggle postman instead.” He shook his head. “Mad-Eye is well-known for being unorthodox and severe against the dark arts, so I am honestly unsure if this indicates that not all is as it seems with our Defence Professor—though the past three years’ track record would indeed suggest it—or if this is simply Mad-Eye being… well, Mad-Eye.”

He held Harry tighter and firmed his resolve. “But you can be certain that I _will_ find out. I will uncover the truth, children. All I ask is that you take great care not to draw his attention until I do.”

Hermione nodded. “We will. We promise.”

“Yes, sir,” Ron said. “I don’t like it much myself.”

“No, and you should not. Whether or not Mad-Eye _intended_ to test Harry’s abilities, he has done, and now the Death Eaters will know of them too. 

Harry turned into Severus’ arms, eyes closed, and buried his head against his chest. “I’m scared.”

“I am with you, little one. I will guard you.” Gods, Severus hoped he could keep his promise this time.

“I know, Az. I know.”

* * *

Apparently Viktor Krum was a seventh year at Durmstrang. Who knew. And one of those Veela things went to Beauxbatons. Harry gave both of them a wide berth. Krum would be fun to challenge on the pitch, but Harry didn’t know if he trusted him off of it. Besides, Ron had yet to shut up about him, and Harry could do without giving the boy more opportunities to gush.

“Can you _believe_ he’s a _student_ , Harry?”

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Yes, Ron. I believe it. And I’ll remind you that he’s one of the students we’re waiting to hear word on, so don’t get too attached yet.”

“Oh. Right.”

Well, it kept him from babbling long enough for Harry to make it to Charms on time. 

Hermione nudged Harry when they sat down. “Luna said at lunch that they’re going to draw for the champions next week.”

“Did she?” Harry gave her a dark look. “Did she make any prophecies this time?”

Hermione shuddered. “No, no prophecies.” She frowned. “But she did look worried about it, come to think of it.”

Harry grimaced and wrapped his arms around his waist, wishing Severus was there to comfort him. “How much do you want to bet my name comes out of that cup, age line or no?”

Ron looked at him askance. “You haven’t _tried_ to cross it, have you?”

“Of course not. I’ve no desire to be murdered halfway through my education, thanks.”

“Yeah. I reckon not.” But Ron looked uncertain as he turned back to his books. 

Harry opened his mouth to question him, but before he could do, Professor Flitwick shut the door with a flick of his wand and started class. With a sigh, Harry focused on the lesson and hoped this whole tournament situation wasn’t about to blow up in his face.

* * *

But it did. Of _course_ it did. 

Just as Dumbledore had turned from the cup, having finished reading Cedric’s name, the goblet turned red again and spat a fourth piece of parchment into his hands. Dumbledore frowned at the message and called in a calm tone, “Harry Potter.”

Harry hissed a curse and slumped into his seat, but Hermione pushed him up. 

“Go, go. We’ll work it out, but for now, you have to go.”

Harry gave her a dark glare and dragged himself to the teacher’s dais. Amidst the shouting of the other two headmasters, Harry faced his own and called, “Headmaster, there must be some mistake. I never put my name in. I _can’t_. I’m not of age.”

Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I know that, child. Someone must have done for you, but there is the issue now of whether the contract with the cup can be negated or not. Come. We shall discuss this away from the public.”

As Harry could barely hear himself think over the din, he thought that a spectacular idea. “Yeah, let’s do that, sir.”

“This way, Harry, Triwizard champions and representatives, Minister Fudge, and fellow headmasters. We shall see what can be done about this… snafu. Professor Snape, Professor Moody, I would like you to attend as well, please.”

Harry released a sigh of relief even as his spine tensed with trepidation. Merlin, he didn’t want to be near Moody now, but the fact that Severus would be in the meeting to argue his case, even if he had to do so while appearing to be an enemy, made him feel safer.

At least until the Minister, Bartemius Crouch, and Dumbledore determined that the contract could not safely be broken, and regardless of the fact that Harry was neither of age or a proper champion, he would still have to compete.

“Damn it to hell,” Harry whispered under his breath and wished Severus could hold him, if only for a moment.

* * *

The other Gryffindors cheered for Harry as he entered the common room that evening. Shouts of “Harry is our hero” and other such rot greeted him, and not a person save Hermione and Neville noticed his discomfort.

Hermione snapped, “Be _quiet_ , you lot. Harry’s only fourteen. He shouldn’t be in this competition. And he doesn’t want to be regardless.” She turned to her friend and gave him a worried look. “Were you able to get out of it?”

Harry shook his head and hugged his shoulders. “They determined it to be a binding contract. They don’t know what will happen if I don’t at least try to compete, but they reckon it won’t be good.”

“Well, just get yourself disqualified in the first task then.”

“Can’t. If I don’t give it an honest go, the magic will know.”

“Of _course_ it will.” Hermione sighed and hugged his shoulders. “It always happens to you, doesn’t it, Harry?”

“Merlin, yes. Wish it would bother someone else for once.”

“True.” 

Harry leaned against Hermione with a sigh. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah? I’m in no mood to be someone’s hero again.”

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah. The library?”

Harry frowned. “I was thinking of the dorm. Why did you want the library?”

She looked away and tucked her hands behind her back. “W-well, it’s just that… the dorms, um… you mightn’t want to go in there right now.”

“Why?”

“Um… well, I….”

Harry frowned as he realised one third of his trio was conspicuously absent. “Wait. Where’s Ron?”

A dull flush crept up Hermione’s cheeks. “I-in the dorms.”

His stomach dropped. “Oh. And why am I avoiding him?”

She squirmed. “Well, it’s just… he doesn’t really understand. Still thinks it’s about glory and fame and… I… I’m sorry.”

He grimaced. “Wait. He thinks I entered myself? That I wanted to put my head on a platter, and for what, _more_ fame? Gods, Hermione! I don’t want what I have already!”

Her hands twisted behind her back. “ _I_ know that. But Ron….”

With a scowl, Harry gently moved her aside and made his way to the dorms. As she had said, Ron was there, sitting on his bed and tossing a knight from his chess set between his hands.

“Hi.”

Ron didn’t look up. “I expect you’re basking in your achievement, yeah?”

“ _Achievement_? Ron, you know as well as I do that I didn’t put my name in that bloody cup.”

“Do I?” Ron glared and squeezed his knight in his fist. The horse whinnied silently. “You’re always sneaking about under that cloak. Oh, I know you meet with Azrael most times, but how do I know that one of those times you didn’t decide to test that age line? Or hell, maybe Azrael helped you. I reckon it would’ve been easy, with an adult on your side.”

Harry thanked his lucky stars Ron hadn’t been petty enough to say ‘Professor Snape,’ but the rest of that rubbish set his temper ablaze. “You _know_ how I feel about this tournament. You _know_ I want nothing to do with it.”

“Do I? Maybe it was just an act. Couldn’t take me with you either, now could you?”

“I _didn’t put my name in_ , you wanker!”

Ron’s face screwed up in fury. “Bullshite. You just wanted the glory for yourself.” He threw the knight down and jerked to his feet. “Well, congratulations, mate. Now you have it!”

With that, he stormed out of the dorms, leaving Harry devastated and shaking and alone. 

* * *

Severus watched Harry drag himself into breakfast the next morning, eyes rimmed in red and dark circles, shoulders slumped. The boy glanced to his redheaded friend, who had come early and alone, but rather than welcoming Harry like Severus had expected, Weasley shot the boy a glare and turned his back. Harry shrunk into himself and sat at the Ravenclaw table with Luna Lovegood, staring into his plate and eating hardly a bite.

What in Merlin’s name had happened? Harry hadn’t spoken to him much after the meeting about the cup—and Severus hadn’t been able to escape the Ministry or Albus until well after two in the morning anyway—but he had come as Xerxes last night. The boy’s dreams had been troubled and dark, and Harry had seemed desolate upon waking, but Severus had thought it an after-effect of his nightmares. 

No, it seemed Weasley had hurt the boy somehow, and Severus would be damned if he let it stand. Harry had enough troubles on his slim shoulders without Weasley’s anger to deal with too.

With that in mind, he shifted into Xerxes and tracked Weasley down just after his final class of the day. Weasley paled at the sight of the crow on his shoulder and winced at the bite of his claws. Severus cawed sharply and bobbed his head forwards, using his weight to guide the boy to an empty classroom on the third floor. Weasley sulked while Severus warded them in, but when he spun around and glared, the boy flinched. 

“Do you wish to tell me why Harry looks as though he spent the entire night crying and has been going about like a ghost all day, Weasley?”

Weasley clammed his mouth shut and turned away.

“Need I remind you that I know several inventive curses that would not be immediately apparent to anyone capable of removing them, and many more ways to force you into silence as to their origins?”

Weasley went ashen. “You _wouldn’t_.”

“Try me.”

Weasley gulped. “Er….” He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. Should be obvious, shouldn’t it? He’s gone and crossed the age line and didn’t ask me along!”

Severus pinned him with a fierce stare. “Have you, or have you not, been in Harry’s close confidence for the past four years?”

Weasley scowled. “So?”

“ _So_ , Mister Weasley, I know full well Harry told you of the dangers involved in this tournament. I know he told you he had no desire for further fame. I know he confessed his fears that someone would _force_ him to participate against his will, and now that they have done, I must confess I am _astounded_ at your capability for wilful blindness and disloyalty.”

Weasley flinched, but turned it into a glare. “ _I’m_ not the one who crossed the age line without me!”

“How in Merlin’s name do you imagine a fourth year could cross an age line _designed_ to read one’s true age regardless of any alterations on one’s person? Did your twin terror brothers not attempt to cross it themselves? How then, if the most inventive little horrors this school has ever seen have not managed to conceive of a way to fool said age line do you imagine _Harry_ has done?”

Weasley’s glare faltered a bit. “Well, he has you, hasn’t he?”

“ _I_?” Severus gave a bark of sharp laughter. “You truly _are_ a fool. I have guarded that boy fiercely for fifteen years. I have fought basilisks, Death Eaters, werewolves, and Riddle himself to keep that boy from pain and danger, and you _dare_ to suggest that I would aid him in placing himself in harm’s way?”

Severus grabbed Weasley by the collar and spat his next words into the prat’s face. “Do you have any idea what kinds of horrors the Ministry is discussing for the first task? I was present to hear some of their plans, so let me enlighten you: sphinxes, acromantula, chimaera, and bloody nesting dragons. _These_ are the types of dangers they believe their champions capable of facing, alone, and with no preparation other than general study, as they are not to know what they face until the morning of the trial itself. So tell me, Mister Weasley, do you still believe I would place the name of my dearest friend in that cup? My _fifteen-year-old_ friend?”

Weasley gasped out, “A-acromantula?”

“Yes. And those were not the worst of the horrors they suggested.”

“S-shite.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Severus released Weasley and stepped back, as imposing as ever even in Azrael’s glamoured form. Slightly shorter stature, blond hair, grey eyes, and a straight nose meant nothing when Severus’ personality backed his glares.

“Well?”

Weasley gulped and rubbed his upper arms. “They want Harry to face those… those _things_ … alone? And… and he isn’t to know what it is beforehand?”

Severus gave a dark laugh. “Oh, he will know. All the champions will. Cheating is a well-known part of the Triwizard, rules aside, and I have no intention of allowing him to go into any of the tasks unprepared. But I will not be allowed to aid him in the trial itself, and Harry is three years younger than his fellow champions. Three years less experienced. Even with my extra training, he is at a major disadvantage. And that is only the _start_ of the dangers that await him in the coming year. So tell me, Weasley, do you still believe he crossed that age line of his own volition?”

Weasley’s shoulders slumped and a pathetic, “ _No_ , ” squeaked past his lips.

Severus nodded tersely. “Then I imagine you have some grovelling to do.” With that, he turned on his heel, dismantled the wards, removed his glamours, and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

It appeased his pride that, when he met Harry et al to discuss the tournament and how to handle it later, Weasley looked subdued and Harry relieved. So the prat had at least apologised. Good. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

“Welcome,” said Severus from behind Harry, already in Azrael’s appearance and tone. “I have researched the Ministry’s top choices for the first challenge, and these appear to be the most likely options….”


	13. Through Fire and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first task and the ball. Note that the scene with the confrontation between Sev and Karkaroff is taken almost verbatim from the movie version of GoF.
> 
> I have to start breaking his school years up into smaller chapters. The plot is getting bigger and so is the story. 
> 
> Also, this one is easier to update than my other WIPs since I have a *lot* already written (up to partway through Harry's 7th year). So updates for this will come faster than the others except Ashes.

#  **Chapter 13**

##  _Through Fire and Water_

### 30 NOVEMBER, 1995

Harry woke from a terrible dream to find a disillusioned and silenced Severus wrapped around him, trying to keep him from struggling and hurting himself. He relaxed at a soft murmur in his ear. 

“You’re safe, Harry. I am here. I am with you. It is over now.”

Harry gave a quiet sob of relief and buried his face into Severus’ chest. “Az… thank Merlin.”

“Was it a vision, child?”

“Yes. I think. There was… Riddle was with Pettigrew and another man—I’m not sure who—and Riddle ordered him to come after me. Or rather, to try harder to get me.”

“Which means he is already near.”

“So it seems.” Harry shuddered. “And, Az, I saw the potion this time. It was dark red and it had silver sparkles in it. Streams of silver. And Pettigrew took milk or something from Nagini to finish it.”

“ _Merlin_ , how vile.” Severus shuddered and hugged Harry tighter. “I am afraid that it is, most likely, the potion required to give him a ghoul homunculus form. It is red, requires milk from a magical snake, and the silvery streams you saw are probably unicorn blood.”

“Gods.”

“Yes. It is a monstrous concoction, to be sure.” 

“What does this mean, Azrael?”

“It means we shall need to be cautious. Someone of our acquaintance is apparently a spy, and we shall need to root them out. In the meantime, take great care to let nothing important slip where said spy might overhear. Do not go about alone. Test all correspondence with the charm I taught you earlier in the year. Trust no strangers.”

“Particularly not strangers in the guise of reporters,” Harry grumbled.

Severus gave a low chuckle and kissed Harry’s forehead. “Try to sleep, little one. The longer I remain out of Animagus form, the greater the risk.”

Harry nodded and buried his face in Severus’ chest. “Would you stay like this, just until I fall asleep?”

“As you wish.”

Harry snuggled closer, taking comfort in the warmth of Severus’ body, the feel of his heartbeat, the scent of his magic, and the weight of his wings all around him. Despite the terror of his dreams, Harry fell back asleep in moments. 

* * *

Harry was glad of Severus’ warnings when an unmarked letter arrived for him via post owl at breakfast that morning. He scanned the letter with his charm and only touched it when it came back clean after three casts. 

 

> _Harry,_
> 
> _Please be at the Gryffindor common room fire after midnight tonight. I must speak to you concerning the tournament. Come alone._

 

There was no signature. Harry frowned at the note and gave Severus his ‘I need a meeting’ glare. Severus responded in kind, and Harry pocketed the strange note, relieved that he would at least have the benefit of Severus’ counsel before this _rendezvous_.

Xerxes met him after classes. Harry guided Ron and Hermione to follow them into an empty fourth floor classroom and waited until Severus had it good and warded to speak.

“Az, I received this at breakfast. There are no charms, but, well….”

Severus read over the note and paled. “But this is alarming. _‘Come alone.’_ Over my dead body. I will advise Albus to tag along as well. For all we know, this could be from the spy. It would be all too easy to pull a fourth year boy through the floo, after all.”

“An untrained fourth year boy,” Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

“And as anyone outside of our confidence believes you to be entirely untrained and without the aid of a spy of our own, my point stands.”

“True.” Harry hugged his chest and frowned. “So we’re meeting them together then?”

Severus sighed. “I suppose so. Far be it from me to attempt to convince your twin shadows to stay away.”

“Good luck with that, Azrael,” said Hermione with a grin.

Severus waved her off. “Promise me you will stay a safe distance from the fire and close to Harry, and I will pretend not to notice your presence.”

“Sure thing,” said Ron with a nod.

* * *

Harry sat in the armchair near the fire, wand in hand and Xerxes perched on his shoulder. Ron and Hermione sat on either side, both with grim expressions. Dumbledore was tucked away in the shadows where the students preparing for bed wouldn’t notice him and hidden under charms, but close enough to be of use should a problem arise. 

At ten to midnight, the last stragglers dragged themselves to bed, leaving the common room empty save for those waiting for the floo. 

Once they had gone, Ron whispered, “Do you reckon they’ll call right at midnight?”

“Most likely not,” Hermione whispered back. “Stay alert.”

“Talk to me then. I’m tired. It’s hard to stay awake when nothing is happening.”

“All right.” She crossed her legs and brought them into her chair. “Have you two decided who you’re going to take to the Yule Ball yet?”

Harry and Ron whipped their heads around simultaneously. 

“The… what?” Harry frowned. “What ball?”

“The Yule Ball. It’s a traditional dance given in Triwizard years. The champions have to lead out.”

“But I can’t _dance_ ,” Harry said with a moan. “And I don’t—who would I even ask? I don’t like any girls like that.”

Hermione shrugged. “I’ll teach you to dance. And as for a partner, you might simply ask a friend.”

Harry frowned. “I might do at that.” He rubbed his chin in thought. Not Hermione. Ron had a thing for Hermione and Harry knew it. Not Ginny either. She had a thing for Harry, and he had no intention of encouraging her. That left only one female of his acquaintance.

“I’ll ask Luna then.”

Hermione grinned. “She’ll be happy to go with you, I think.” Her eyes fixed on a gulping Ron. “Well?”

Ron choked. “M-Maybe talking wasn’t the best idea after all….”

Xerxes gave his crow laugh, making Harry grin and Hermione roll her eyes.

Then the floo flared to life, and all mirth vanished in an instant. Harry and his friends stood and raised their wands as a face materialised in the flames. A _familiar_ face. Irritation and fury set Harry’s blood ablaze at the sight.

“Lupin. What in Merlin’s name do you want?”

The werewolf’s genial smile slipped at Harry’s cold greeting and the angry expressions of his compatriots. 

“Er, well, I thought you’d be alone, Harry.”

Harry fixed him with an icy glare. “If you think I’m stupid enough to respond to an unsigned, unmarked message without protection in place when Death Eaters are after my blood and Riddle is trying to resurrect himself as we speak, then you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.” He cast a silencing charm around them so he didn’t wake his dormmates when his patience inevitably ran out. “Well? What in Merlin’s name was so important that you had to keep me up after midnight just to see your sorry face?”

Lupin sighed. “I take it you didn’t read the book.”

“That rubbish you sent me over the summer, you mean?” Harry scoffed. “Bollocks. You almost got me killed repeatedly by your cowardice, and your idiocy last term practically gift-wrapped Pettigrew for Riddle. I’m not sure exactly why you think I should care whether it stems from anxiety or from being a bloody pathetic excuse of a human being after all the trouble you caused. Fuck that. I’ve no use for cowards and berks.”

Lupin’s smile changed to a grimace. “I-I see. Well, that’s… not what I was hoping for, but nevertheless, I still need to speak to you. Did you put your name in the goblet, Harry?”

Harry fixed him with a stern glare. “And how, precisely, is that any of your business?”

“I-I’m just trying to look out for you, Harry. Someone has it in for you, and I thought you might not know, and—”

“For your information, Lupin,” said Harry in icy tones, “I already _know_ someone is after me. Did you or did you not just hear me say Riddle is trying to fucking _resurrect himself_? That, by default, implies I have enemies out for my blood. And I also know there’s a spy in Hogwarts. That was blatantly obvious when my name came out of the cup as a _fourth_ champion, when I’m not old enough to have entered it myself and it was only set for three.”

Lupin winced. “W-well, perhaps, but—”

“The fact of the matter is, Lupin,” Harry continued without a break, “I’m here and you’re not. I’m in the thick of it, and you, once again, have turned tail and fled. I know a damn sight more about the situation than you do just by virtue of being _involved_. Oh, and by the way, I _have_ people to watch out for me. People who actually _care_ about me more than their own pathetic hide. People who would give their life for mine in a heartbeat and not even think twice.” 

Ron and Hermione pressed in on both sides and glared Lupin down. Xerxes gave a quiet caw and cocked his head, eyeing the werewolf. Dumbledore swept out of the shadows and made his presence known as well.

“As you see, Remus,” said Dumbledore with a smile that left Harry shivering at its coldness, “Harry is quite well-guarded. And I know, for a fact, that he has told you in no uncertain terms to cease contacting him. You have, once again, ignored his requests and wishes. You have also, once again, endangered his life this night and have offered nothing in return that we do not already know. Thus, I will, once again, ask you to cease and desist. And will advise you that any further attempts to contact Harry via the Hogwarts floos will result in a complete ban from the grounds.”

Lupin went ashen. “I… I understand.”

“Get lost, Lupin,” Harry snapped. “Preferably somewhere far away from me. And tell your mutt friend the same thing.”

The werewolf sighed and walked away from the floo, ending the call. 

Dumbledore squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “Well done, child. You showed a remarkable amount of restraint, considering the circumstances.” His lips twitched. “Though I will say that your language is rather more… colourful than I had come to expect.”

Harry blushed. “Er… sorry, sir. It’s Lupin and Black. They bring it out of me, I guess. I don’t _usually_ talk like that.”

Xerxes gave another crow laugh, earning him a glare from Harry.

Dumbledore chuckled and patted Harry’s shoulder. “Ten points to Gryffindor, for the lot of you.” 

Xerxes stared at him and gave a low, irritated caw. 

“Yes, for you too. You are a Gryffindor as long as you are acting as Harry’s familiar, after all.”

Xerxes shuddered dramatically, making Harry snicker. 

“You’re as brave as a Gryffindor, Xerxes, even if you’ve more cunning than all the Slytherins put together.”

Xerxes rubbed Harry’s cheek, mollified, and Harry stroked his chest.

“Goodnight, children,” said Dumbledore with a wave as he moved to the portrait hole. “Do turn in now. It is quite late, after all.”

“Yes, sir,” all three Gryffindors replied.

After Dumbledore left and Hermione bid them goodnight, Harry gave an irritated sigh and headed towards the boys’ dorm, Ron close on his heels. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

Ron shot him a wry look. “Mate, considering everything that’s happened as of late, I’d think you’d be more happy about that.”

Harry chuckled softly. “Good point.”

* * *

Fucking hell, what idiot had decided that nesting dragons would make a great challenge for students? Godsdamn, Harry and the other champions had _barely_ pulled through that in one piece. Especially considering that Severus had only been able to train Harry in a skill a fourth year might reasonably know—his broom and his Summoning charms—and the fact that Moody had seemed unreasonably invested in Harry’s success in the first task, it was a bloody miracle any one of them had lived. 

And more, it had physically _hurt_ Harry to watch the Chinese Fireball crush her own eggs under her feet and mourn her lost young. The representatives should have shielded the eggs. They shouldn’t have put the real eggs in the nest at all. It wasn’t right.

Harry had some choice words for Charlie next time he had the energy to write him. 

For now, he barely had the strength to crawl to his dorm room and collapse upon the covers. To his relief, both Hedwig and Xerxes were waiting for him, perched on his pillow and jabbering on in low chirrups. Harry gave them a wan smile and snuggled between them. 

“M’glad to see you.”

Xerxes gave a low warble of dismay and nuzzled Harry’s cheek. Harry petted his head with a trembling hand. 

“M’okay. Just tired. And sad. I really hate it that the Chinese Fireball lost some of her babies. And for what? For a bloody _sport_? S’not right. They’re living beings too.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, and Harry jerked a hand across his face. “Hurts. They were just innocent babies. Dragon babies, yes, but still babies. And their poor mum. Gods. S’not right. S’just cruel.”

Hedwig hooted sadly and curled up at Harry’s side. Xerxes settled in beside her, and Harry wrapped his arm around them both.

“So glad you’re with me.” He kissed Hedwig’s head and Xerxes’ back and fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Harry’s grief over the lost dragon eggs triggered some long-forgotten memory in Severus, but whatever it was, he couldn’t recall enough to make sense of it. Something of wings, of shadows and bloodlines. It wasn’t enough to put the pieces together, so he pushed it aside and comforted the distraught boy as best as he could. He had never seen someone mourn so hard for dragons, but then, Harry had the softest, most loving heart of anyone Severus knew. At least, with those he considered worthy of his love. 

Black and Lupin, on the other hand, got the brunt of his anger, and serve them right. The idiots had endangered Harry’s life a thousand times over the past year and a half alone in their selfish pursuits of revenge and absolution. They didn’t deserve Harry’s love.

Not to mention, after the way Black had continually attacked Severus over the past year in his Grim form and Lupin had come at him again as a werewolf, Severus was developing quite the phobia of canines. Strange, considering he was part-canine himself, at least spiritually, but perhaps that was understandable too. After all, his full Tengu mother had abandoned him to suffer under Tobias too. 

He hadn’t much luck with canines, it seemed. 

He found himself hoping that if Harry had an Animagus form, he became a bird or a cat. Anything but a dog. And if Harry became a flight-worthy Animagus, they could fly together one day. Merlin, he would love to have a true friend who could fly alongside him. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to investigate Harry’s abilities. His skill in Transfiguration suggested he might have the power. And after all, it _was_ in his genes.

Hmm. Having the ability to shift into an animal might keep him alive in the coming trials and in the future as well, so long as they kept it unregistered. Or better yet, registered him in secret and hid the information behind a _Fidelius_. That way, no one could try to imprison Harry for failure to register. If the boy had the potential to change, Severus would bring it up to Albus and see what was to be done. For the moment, Severus was content to watch over the boy’s dreams. Peaceful again, for the moment. 

Harry woke a few moments later and yawned. “Ugh. Too early.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Oh, still here, Xerxes? Did you watch over me all night?”

Of _course_ he had. He couldn’t leave after a vision—what if Harry had others? 

Harry smoothed a gentle hand down Severus’ back. “Thank you. I’m okay now. Go take care of yourself.”

Severus nuzzled Harry’s hand and hopped to his shoulder. The quick tug on Harry’s hair and pull towards the door would let the boy know he needed to talk later. Harry petted Severus’ chest in reply, a gesture that he had understood, and Severus flew out the open window. A few twists and turns took him to the landing outside Albus’ quarters, and he pecked at the window until the old man let him in with a wry smile. Severus shuddered at the sight of his neon purple dressing gown and gaudy green slippers. 

“Hello, Xerxes.” Albus motioned to his living room. “I was just about to make a spot of tea—a little cuppa to get the blood flowing. Perhaps you would like to join me?”

Severus shifted into his normal form and followed Albus to the sofa. “So long as you dress first, or I fear my loss of appetite may defeat the purpose.”

Albus chuckled good-naturedly and seated himself across Severus. “All in good time, my friend. Now, do tell me why you came to me straight from Harry’s room without so much as having entered your quarters once last evening.”

Severus raised an eyebrow and paused halfway through doctoring a cup of tea. “How, exactly, do you know that?”

“Ah, ah, Severus. A magician never gives away his secrets.”

Severus huffed and sipped at his tea. “That may work on the students, Albus, but I know full well you are far less prescient than you are observant. So…?”

Albus chuckled. “It is quite simple, my friend. I simply deduced your whereabouts from the fact that you are wearing the same robe as yesterday.”

Severus looked over his garments with a bemused expression. “All of my teaching robes are the same, Albus.”

“Ah, not quite.” Albus motioned to Severus’ left sleeve, where a tiny potion burn marred his cuff. “This is your Tuesday robe.”

Severus gave him a wry smile. “Do you have all my garments so well-memorised?”

“Perhaps. I shall have to check my pensieve.”

Severus snorted. “Later, old man. For now, we have more serious things to discuss.”

“Yes, I surmised we might. So, did Harry have visions?”

“Yes. There is a spy in the school. Riddle ordered an unknown man to increase his efforts to kidnap Harry, and the man left. That was the extent of what Harry was able to report.”

“Hmm. Did he give a description of said man?”

“No. Riddle was not looking at them. He was watching Pettigrew decant the Brew of Ghouls instead.”

Albus closed his eyes, a slight shiver passing over his frame. “It is true, then. He has encased himself in the form of a ghoul homunculus.”

“For the time being, but you and I both know he will not be content in such a form for long.”

“Indeed not. I surmise that is why he is so intent on capturing Harry, at least in part.”

Severus paled. “Do you know of a rite…?”

“No, but I imagine that if Tom can utilise Harry to bring himself to life, he will do so. It would demoralise Harry and, perhaps, negate his protection. We can only hope it fails.”

“Indeed,” said a shaken Severus. “About this spy, Albus. Do you have any ideas?”

“Many, but none that I can prove, unfortunately.”

“Yes.” Severus sighed and sipped at his tea, letting the sweet, hot liquid ease the pit of ice growing in his belly. “Albus, I think there is more to his ability to see me. It is not simply clairvoyance. I begin to wonder if he is clairvoyant at all.”

Albus nodded and rubbed his chin. “Perhaps we are barking up the wrong tree, so to speak, but as of now, I have no other explanation. None that come to mind so early in the morning, at any rate.” He took a sip of his tea and stroked his beard. “Well, I will think on it. In the meantime, go to your quarters and refresh yourself, Severus. Unless you would like to share a meal with me before you go?”

Though Severus rarely indulged in private meals with the headmaster, Harry, or Minerva, he found himself in need of a friendly presence at the moment. 

“I think I would like to stay this time, Albus, if it is truly not an imposition.”

Albus smiled. “Not at all, dear boy. Not at all.”

* * *

Harry left the common room, his ears still ringing from Hermione’s parting screech.

 _“Just because it’s taken you this long to notice that I am, in fact, a_ girl, _Ronald, doesn’t mean others have missed it.”_

Merlin. Harry _had_ told him to stop dragging his feet, but Ron hadn’t wrapped his head around the idea of asking Hermione until now—five days before the ball—and she, of course, already had a date by then. The fact that he’d asked her as an afterthought hadn’t gone over well either. 

With a sigh, Harry resigned himself to having a long talk with his emotionally-stunted friend on how to treat women and headed towards the library. He already knew, thanks to Severus, that the next task would take place underwater and gillyweed would help him breathe while he completed it, but brushing up on his knowledge of underwater creatures and proper defence tactics couldn’t hurt. He wanted to get in some practise in the lake, but Severus couldn’t help him without risking his cover, Dumbledore couldn’t be seen helping either, and none of Harry’s younger friends were skilled enough to save him should he run into trouble.

Maybe Harry should look up Occlumency advice instead. He’d come a long way since starting his training, but as Severus couldn’t be gentle in lessons until Harry already knew how to Occlude, he hadn’t come as far as he would have liked. If only Dumbledore could teach him, but no. That vision where Harry’s eyes had gone red had warned Severus and Dumbledore that Riddle could possess him if he so desired. And if he ever found Dumbledore training Harry, then the old man feared Riddle would be tempted to take Harry over in effort to hurt him using a ‘safe’ tool. After all, Dumbledore wouldn’t be able to hurt Riddle that way, but he might do great harm to Harry in trying to defend himself. It would be a perfect plan of attack, and so, it was just too dangerous to risk.

Which meant Harry was stuck trying to learn to Occlude with only Azrael’s gentle after-session advice and the in-character Professor Snape’s brutal lessons. Hermione was trying to help too, but as she was just as much a neophyte in Occlumency as Harry and mind magic wasn’t the type of discipline one could learn from a book alone, she couldn’t offer much besides theoretical knowledge. And Azrael had plenty of that plus practical experience, so his advice was better.

Still, maybe something would click if Harry stared at a textbook long enough. Couldn’t hurt to try at any rate. And it would keep him from worrying over Ron and Hermione.

But as he passed the staff supply room, he caught sight of a scene that drove all thoughts of clueless best friends and Occlumency from his mind.

“Tell me you have not noticed it, Severus,” came Karkaroff’s oily tones. “Look. Tell me you do not see.”

Harry peeked around the corner and froze. Karkaroff had his left arm bared and was staring at Severus with an expression of abject horror on his face. Severus looked at the man’s arm with disdain, but Harry knew him well enough to see the fear, the worry behind his eyes, to catch the way his left wrist tensed reflexively, the fingers curling in as if to shield him.

Oh, gods. The Dark Mark. How long had it been growing darker, gaining strength, while Severus hid his fears behind dark robes and distance? How long had Severus endured alone, keeping his worries secret and Harry out of his confidence? The thought hurt, and Harry drew away, leaning against the wall outside the room.

“It is happening again, just like it was before,” Karkaroff continued.

Severus snapped, “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh? Then I suppose you won’t mind rolling up your sleeve.”

A brief scuffle sounded, sending Harry’s heart leaping into his throat. He peeked into the room again to find Severus backed against the wall, left arm above his head and wand pointed at Karkaroff’s chest. Karkaroff sneered and stepped back. 

“Admit it, Severus. You _are_ afraid.”

Severus lowered his wand and straightened his sleeve, his expression unyielding. “I have nothing to be afraid of, Igor. Can you say the same?”

Face paling, Karkaroff turned to leave, and Harry ducked into a nearby alcove just in time. The man went the other way, thankfully. Once he was gone, Harry slipped into the supply room under his cloak—always in his pocket for situations just like this—and took Severus’ hand from behind. He kept his eyes on the ground so as not to see the man’s face.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Severus tensed, then his fingers tightened around Harry’s. “I… wanted to shield you.” His voice came out in Azrael’s soft tenor. “Forgive me. I only wanted you to… to be happy. As long as you can.”

Harry buried his face in Severus’ back and kissed the Tengu’s silky wing. Severus gasped and leaned back slightly. 

“It’s all right, Az. I know he’s getting stronger. Just don’t hide from me again, okay? Don’t try to bear everything alone. I want to help you.”

Severus turned, and strong, slender arms caught Harry into a warm embrace. “I _am_ afraid, but not for myself.”

Harry kissed Severus’ cheek, keeping his eyes shut tight, and whispered against him, “I know. I love you, too.”

Severus sighed and dropped a kiss onto Harry’s forehead. “You must go, little one. Anyone could walk in on us like this, and they will question why a stranger is here, holding one of the students.”

Harry stepped back with a nod and turned his back. “Yes, Azrael. Let’s meet later, okay? Just to talk. I want you to confide your fears in me, if you can.”

Gentle, claw-tipped fingers trailed through his hair. “You are the only one I can speak to of my fears, Harry. The only one I trust enough to confide in, but I cannot speak of this. Not until you know how to Occlude, little one.” 

“Damn. I’m so sorry.”

“Ssh. I know you are doing all you can. Simply keep practising. It is a difficult discipline, but you _are_ gaining skill. In time, my friend, we shall be able to confide in each other fully again. For now, I shall confide what I can, only please understand I cannot risk the darkest of my secrets yet.”

“I know, Azrael. I’d much rather you stay safe.”

“Thank you.” A tender kiss dropped on Harry’s hair. “Go. We shall speak later, when it is safe.”

“Okay. Later then.”

With one last squeeze to Severus’ hand, Harry forced himself to step away from the warmth and comfort of his dearest friend and left.

* * *

That evening, Harry lay on a conjured sofa in an empty classroom, petting Severus’ ears as he leaned against Harry’s back and told him everything he could safely. He had activated his dark scent at the start of their meeting, and Harry promised to tell him if his scar hurt. In this manner, they talked and found some little semblance of closeness again after months of being forced apart except for a few stolen moments here and there.

“I… I am afraid, Harry,” Severus murmured to the ceiling. “That scene you saw earlier in the day—I am so afraid of what it means. I know he is gaining strength—we have seen that through your visions—but I fear… I fear _this_ means he has also found a way to restore himself to humanity soon. And still worse, I fear you are the key.”

Severus’ voice broke in a sob. “I cannot lose you. I cannot survive—I have lost everyone but you, Minerva, and Albus. Please… please promise me you will not leave me.”

Harry laid a little kiss on Severus’ ear, loving the way his soft fur felt beneath his lips. “I won’t leave you, Azrael. I love you far too much.”

A claw-tipped hand reached carefully back to cup Harry’s face and tangle in his hair. “I love you as well. Stay, Harry. Stay by me. As much as you can do.”

“Always, Az.”

* * *

On Christmas morning, after Dobby left with his lumpy sock and Harry had a pair of his own on his lap—mismatched, of course—Harry stared at his ‘broken’ sneakoscope with a pensive expression. It hadn’t made a peep.

“Ron,” Harry called, distracting the redhead from the pile of presents at the foot of his bed. “I don’t think this was broken after all.”

Ron blinked. “Er… what? Oh, the sneakoscope. No, I reckon it was just reacting to Pettigrew. ‘Course, none of us realised….”

“Yeah.” Harry put the sneakoscope in his pocket and silenced it. He’d feel the vibrations if it went off.

“I reckon I’m going to carry it around with me for a while. See if it goes off around our spy.”

“Good idea, mate.” 

Ron went back to his pile, and Harry reckoned he might want to get a start on his own. He opened the one from Severus first and found a golden ring with red filigree—something he could easily say he bought for himself. A note lay at the bottom of the parcel in a disguised hand.

 

> _Harry,_
> 
> _Happy Christmas, my dear friend. I chose this with Gryffindor in mind. I do hope it passes muster._
> 
> _As always with me, the jewellery itself is not the true gift, however. It is charmed to link to a ring I will wear at all times. Should you ever need to meet with me, simply turn the ring anticlockwise. I will know then that you need to see me later and be able to track you by its vibrations, so long as you are within its range. This, I hope, will help keep us both safer._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Azrael_

 

Once Harry had finished reading, he looked up to find his other dormmates had finished with their gifts besides Neville, who could keep secrets and wouldn’t pry regardless. Harry passed Ron the note. Ron read it and handed it back to Harry with a grin.

“Well, that’s good then. Will certainly keep the awkward… conversations down to a minimum, hmm?”

Harry chuckled and burned the note in his palm with a bit of wandless magic. Ron gaped.

“Harry… mate, that’s _scary_. How do you do that?”

Harry shuddered. “I….”

Ron clambered onto the bed beside him and bumped his shoulder. “Come off it. I didn’t mean that _you’re_ scary. It’s just that you’re a fourth-year, mate. How are you so skilled in wandless magic so soon?”

Harry rubbed his shoulders. “I… I dunno.” He glanced to Neville, who held up his hands in a gesture of conciliation.

“Look, Harry, I know you have secrets and I know they’re keeping your skin on. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Not even Dean or Seamus?”

“No, I promise. It’s not my secret to tell.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Nev. I do trust you. It’s just… my secrets have a tendency to get people in trouble. _Voldemort_ trouble.”

Neville shuddered. “Noted.”

Harry nodded and turned back to Ron. “Well, it’s just that… remember in second year, I had to heal Azrael with the Headmaster’s help?”

“Yeah, still don’t understand why.”

“He… er… Dumbledore needed my sight. My… special sight.”

“ _Oh_. In that case, go on.”

“Well, when Dumbledore sent his power through me, something inside me… _clicked_ or something. Like it… unlocked. I don’t know what it was, but ever since then, I’ve had healing powers and I’ve been able to use wandless magic better. My regular magic is stronger too.” He frowned. “And lately, I’ve noticed that I seem to have an affinity for the elements. Water, fire, earth, and so on. And my disillusionment charms are extra-strong too.”

“Elements?” Ron scooted closer. “Are you an Elemental or something? Like a fire mage or a water mage?”

Harry sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I dunno, mate. I don’t think so. They tend to only have control over one or two elements, and this is _all_ of them.” He shook his head wryly. “I reckon it’s just more of the strangeness of being me.”

Ron chuckled good-naturedly, and Neville joined in.

“Yeah. You _are_ rather strange, come to think of it.”

“Oi!” Harry laughed and shoved his friend away playfully. “Go sit on your own bed if you’re going to be mean to me.”

Ron snorted. “Fair enough. I’ve yet to open the present from Charlie anyway.”

Harry bit back a growl. “I’m still angry with him.”

“Over the dragon eggs?” Ron shook his head bemusedly. “You and Hagrid and your creatures.”

Harry gave a wry laugh. “I’m not _that_ bad, thank you. I certainly wouldn’t mind a few less Aragogs in the world.”

Ron shuddered and ran to the shelter of his bed. “No indeed.”

And yet, in the privacy of his own mind, Harry thought if someone had carelessly smashed a nest of acromantula eggs and he had heard of it, he might have mourned them too. 

Merlin, he really _was_ strange. With a shake of his head, he decided he’d best get back to his presents and put his worries from his mind, at least for the moment.

It was _Christmas_. Now wasn’t the time to worry.

But when his sneakoscope went off at breakfast, Harry reckoned maybe wars didn’t recognise holidays, no matter how much he wished they did. He turned his ring under the table and went back to his bangers and mash.

* * *

Severus guided Harry into an empty classroom after breakfast and warded it. “What is it, little one? Did you just wish to see me?”

Harry lifted his face and pointed to his eyes, closed as always when he wasn’t sure where Severus stood. Severus moved to embrace him from behind. 

“There, you are safe. And I thank you for your gift, child. The anti-ward crystals will indeed help keep me safe when I must return to the field.” A gentle kiss landed on his temple. “Happy Christmas.”

“Not so happy, really.” Harry pulled his sneakoscope from his pocket, still and quiet once more. “You remember this? Ron gave it to me for my birthday in third year, it kept going off at random times. Well, he had gotten it cheap and we didn’t know about Pettigrew then, so we reckoned it was wonky. But this morning, Dobby showed up with a present for me.”

Harry lifted his trouser legs to reveal a pair of mismatched, hand-knitted socks with patterns of snitches and brooms. Severus couldn’t help but snort. 

“Well, those are colourful.”

“Yes, a bit too much, but I couldn’t just—he made them for me, you know. I wanted to make him happy, so… it’s not so bad to sacrifice a little of my dignity for that.”

Severus hugged Harry tighter. “You lovely boy. That is true.”

“Yeah. But I wasn’t expecting him, so I didn’t have anything. I… well, he likes socks, so I pulled the sneakoscope out of the sock I’d stuffed it in and gave it to him. You’d think I’d given him the moon.” Harry shook his head. “I’ll get him a proper present next time.”

“More socks, I think.”

“Ron gave him his Weasley sweater.”

Severus snorted. “It might need some shrinking.”

“It might do at that,” said Harry with a laugh. His mirth faded fast. “But then, when I was holding this after he left and it hadn’t made a noise the entire time, I realised it had never been broken. It was only going off because of Pettigrew. So I put it in my pocket to help us find the spy.”

Severus tensed. “You have found them.”

“Not… exactly. It went off at breakfast, Severus. And everyone fourth year and above stayed over this year because of the ball. It could be anyone.”

“But there is most definitely someone untrustworthy in Hogwarts.”

“Yeah.”

Severus shook his head and hugged Harry tighter. “We will find them, little one. Keep that on you at all times. Perhaps it will guide us to them.”

“That’s the hope.” Harry paused. “Azrael, we were talking about my abilities too. Do you know why I’ve started to have skill in the elements?”

“Well, an elemental mage, perhaps, would—”

“In _all_ of the elements?”

Severus froze. “All? Merlin. I have never heard of such a thing.”

And yet, the mention of it triggered that long-forgotten memory he had thought of after the first task. _Shadows, bloodlines, wings, and elements._ Merlin, what _was_ it?

He clutched Harry tighter. Well, if he kept collecting clues at this rate, one of them would eventually finish the puzzle. He only hoped he finished it before someone outside his confidence did. 

“I do not know, child, but we shall find out.”

Harry relaxed in his arms. “Yeah. Yeah, we will.”

* * *

Harry thanked his lucky stars that Hermione knew how to dance. She had taught him the basics before the ball, so at least he didn’t end up making a total arse of himself during the champions’ dance. Luna looked to be enjoying herself at any rate. He’d danced with her for a few more numbers to make her smile and talked for a bit about inconsequential things. Her creatures, his studies—things normal teenagers might speak of.

Well, as normal as one could be in a conversation with Luna Lovegood, at any rate.

Ron had gone to the ball with Parvati, and neither one seemed happy about it. Parvati had, like Ron, waited too long to ask her fancy—Ginny, as it happened, who had agreed to go with Neville long before Parvati found her courage. Harry sympathised with Parvati. He hadn’t been able to ask a boy either, even though he would’ve asked Severus if it wouldn’t have put both of their lives in danger. 

Krum, whom Azrael had deemed a safe contact early in the year, if a bit awkward, was dancing with Hermione, and her face glowed with joy. Harry didn’t know how to take it. Ron’s misery shadowed his joy for her happiness. Still, it was his own fault. Harry had explained what he had done wrong, so with any luck, the next time Ron had reason to ask Hermione out, he would do better. At least Harry could be sure he’d beaten the urge to retaliate out of Ron’s head. 

_“No, you berk. You’re just going to make everything worse like that. Just treat her with respect. Please. For everyone’s sake.”_

At the realisation that a fight between the trio could put Harry in danger, Ron gave up his plan to drag Lavender into the fray, and Harry relaxed. And yet, with the redhead fuming and hurting beside him, he worried Ron might fall back on his earlier ideas of vengeance out of sheer misery. 

As Parvati had gone for a spin around the floor with Luna and Padma had gone to dance with her date, Anthony Goldstein, Harry took the opportunity their absence provided to have a chat with his distraught friend.

“Ron,” Harry said during a lull, “go get us some punch. Drink a bit of butterbeer and calm down. I know you hate seeing her with him, but the only thing getting angry and jealous is going to do is convince her that she made the right decision. You have the advantage of years of close friendship and understanding with Hermione, and that’s a lot more important than simple interest, but you have to respect her or you’ve gone and cocked it up before you’ve started.”

Ron’s shoulders slumped. “Mate, I _do_ respect her. I just didn’t figure it out until you beat it into my head.” He laid his head on his hands. “You know how I feel, Harry. I just… I don’t know how to say it to _her_. I don’t know how to… to show it.”

“Well, I know it’s tough for you, but you might start by telling her what you think of her. That she’s smart and such, all the things you told me the other night. Well, maybe a little at a time—not too much or she’ll think you’re just trying to get in her knickers.”

Ron paled. “Mate, Mum would string me up.”

Harry laughed softly. “She would, too. By your bollocks. So you’d best learn to treat Hermione well, and for Merlin’s sake, stop tripping over your tongue around Fleur. That hurts her, you know.”

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. “Harry, I’m not sure it’s—Fleur’s a veela. She has the allure. It’s… I can’t really help it. _No_ man can help it, except….” He paused and gave Harry a searching look. “Mate, have you ever lost your head around her?”

“Are you mad? Veela are terrifying. No _thank_ you.”

With a wry smile, Ron leaned back in his seat and chuckled to himself. “So _that’s_ why Hermione wanted to know how I felt about gays.”

“Er… Fleur?”

Ron’s eyes pinned Harry like a bug on a card. “No, mate. _You_. The only people who don’t react to veela are gay men and straight women. The allure doesn’t work if you’ve no attraction to women to start with. The rest of us, though, are out of luck until we’ve a bonded partner. Then, the magic between us and our mates keeps the allure from latching on, so long as we’re faithful.”

Harry flushed to his ears. “Ron, best to keep that quiet. Please. If anyone overhears, it’ll be in the Prophet before you can say ‘scandal.’”

“You got it, mate, but if you want it to stay secret, you might want to act a bit foolish around Fleur from time to time. Make some outlandish claim. You know the drill. Otherwise, someone else will catch on eventually.”

Harry grimaced. “Ugh. Well, I guess I’d better if it means Rita-bloody-Skeeter doesn’t find out. Gods, that woman is a curse on humanity.”

“She’s definitely a curse on you at any rate.”

Harry elbowed him playfully. “Shut it, mate.” He paused. “Ron, you’re not… you don’t hate me, do you?”

“Long as you understand I’m straight as two planks, we’re good.”

Harry grimaced. “Ron. You’re my _brother_. Ew.”

Ron laughed softly. “Thank the gods for that. But if not me, then who _do_ you have your eye on—wait a minute.” He gave Harry a wide-eyed look. “Wait. _Azrael_?”

Harry couldn’t help a bright flush. “I… Ron, please.”

“Merlin!” Ron shivered. “Better you than me, mate.” He added in a whisper, “But be careful. I’d hate to see you hurt, and even if Azrael _does_... you know, swing your way and he’s open to it, you can’t do anything for a while, Harry. You’re still just fifteen. Until you’re eighteen, anything between you will put Azrael in Azkaban and you on probation.”

Harry winced. “I know. I’m not going to—it’s not worth it. I mean, I don’t even know if he’d be interested, and I’m still not totally sure about it myself, but no fancy is worth putting him in Azkaban. I can wait.”

“Just so. But you… you had best be prepared. If you two _do_ go through with this, it’s not going to be… easy, you know? _I’m_ not going to say anything against you, and neither will ‘Mione or Nev or anyone we’re close to, but the rest of the Wizarding world has a giant stick up their arse when it comes to… your type of person, if you catch my drift. And you’re their pet hero—well, on the weeks Skeeter doesn’t tear into you. And he’s their scapegoat. They’ll all go mad.”

Harry snorted. “Since when have I cared what the Wizarding world thinks?”

“Since never, but just be prepared for a giant load of rubbish if the two of you do work out. Or really, with anyone you date, but especially him. _We_ know he’s all right, but….”

“The rest of the world treats him like shite and puts me on a pedestal. I know. Like I said, I don’t know if anything will ever happen, but if it does, well, he’s worth the wait _and_ the hassle.” Harry bumped Ron’s shoulder. “And thanks. Really. I didn’t expect either of you to take it as well as you have done, to be honest.”

“We’re your best friends, mate. What kind of friends would we be if we threw a wobbly over who you love or who you don’t? Just so long as he doesn’t parade around the Burrow bare-arsed, we’re all right.”

Harry choked back a laugh. “ _Azrael_? Could you see him doing that?”

“No, mate. And let’s just keep it that way, yeah?”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll mention it to him if we ever do… you know.”

“Thanks for that.”

Harry smothered helpless laughter in his hands.


	14. Flesh, Blood, and Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a tad bit late on updating this (complete with plot-hole fixes!), but as I spent all afternoon in the ER struggling to breathe yesterday, I figured y'all would forgive me a day or two. COVID19 test takes 10 days to get back (because they're swamped with them), so I have to self-quarantine until then just to be safe, but since breathing treatments helped, the DR thinks it's more likely to be asthma set off by a bad cold. I can breathe today at least, so I'm mostly okay now. Other than being sick still, but it's not _scary_ sick anymore, so I'll take it.

#  **Chapter 14**

##  _Flesh, Blood, and Bone_

###  _1 JANUARY, 1996_

After the Yule Ball, Ron had apologised to Hermione for being, well, a dunderhead, and she had forgiven him with a smile. Harry was just relieved to see them speaking to each other again, though Ron _did_ tend to turn a rather spectacular shade of red every time Hermione mentioned Krum. At least he didn’t have to sit between them and pretend not to be uncomfortable with their glaring silences any longer. 

Near the end of January, Harry was still searching the map for suspicious names, trying to find their spy. He hadn't seen anything yet, but he had the sinking suspicion that he _should_ , that if he only looked in the right place, he would know.

He sighed and glanced over Moody's office. Nothing suspicious. The man was in the same spot as always. His desk, most likely.

Dark feathers rustled beside his head, and a small body came to rest on Harry's shoulder. Xerxes, and he was shaking.

"Hey, you okay?"

Xerxes gave a nervous caw and steered him towards the door. Merlin. Something awful must have happened for Xerxes to be so forceful.

"O-okay. Guide me?"

Xerxes bobbed his head and steered him towards the door. Ron hesitated. 

"Er… do you need us, too?"

Xerxes cocked his head, then nodded and urged them on. Ron fell into place beside Harry, and, after picking up Hermione from the library, they made their way towards the headmaster's office. Harry peeked into the defence master's office on the way and frowned at the sight of Moody grading papers, his personal flask gleaming orange in the candlelight. The sight triggered something in Harry's mind, but he couldn't work out what was bothering him before Xerxes ushered them into Albus' office. And then, panic overrode everything else.

With a grim expression, Albus motioned the children and crow into his office and settled them around his sofa. Xerxes took Azrael's form behind Harry and slipped his hand into the boy’s hair to let him know he was there. His fingers trembled against Harry’s scalp.

“Headmaster?” Hermione huddled next to Harry as Ron scooted in on his other side. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” The headmaster passed them all a cup of tea. “Drink. You especially, Harry. I fear you will be facing your boggart soon, and you shall need the calming influence.”

“ _What_?” Harry ignored his cup and jerked to his feet. “Oh, gods! Who knows? What’s going to—what do you mean?”

“Sit down, Harry,” Azrael soothed. “It’s all right. I have not been discovered yet.”

Harry took a deep breath and folded himself onto the sofa, but could not begin to touch his tea. “Please. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Azrael sighed and petted Harry’s hair. “It is the second task, child. You recall we were concerned about the line ‘ _we’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss_?’ We have discovered what that object is—people. The person whom you love most in the world. And we do not know how they are choosing said person.”

Harry whimpered. “And if it chooses the one person I love most honestly, and not the person I _appear_ to love most….”

“It will choose me, and we are all in trouble then. Whether my glamours remain in place or not… it is… we do not know if they will stay in place.” Though Azrael couldn’t say it, Harry understood the direness of the warning—Azrael had more than simple human glamours protecting his identity. If his yokai glamours failed….

Harry breathed. “ _Fuck_.” He paled. “Oh gods, I’m sorry, Headmaster. I’m just scared.”

Dumbledore patted his shoulder. “Do not trouble yourself, child. I am quite shaken up myself.”

Hermione, ever the practical one, brought them back to the task at hand. “So what do we do? How do we keep Azrael’s cover?”

“We must prevent the task from choosing him as Harry’s target,” said Dumbledore. “But as of now, we do not know how to do so. And so, I must beg your assistance. Please, help us find a way to keep him safe. For Harry’s sake, and for my own. For all of us.”

Hermione sat tall and took Harry’s hand. “Absolutely, sir.”

Harry clung to her hand like a lifeline 

and prayed, desperately, that they might find a solution in time to save the person he would most ‘sorely miss’.

* * *

Harry woke on the morning of the second task in the library, head pressed into a book of ancient protection spells and rites. He panicked at the sunlight streaming through the windows. “Oh _gods_. It’s too late. It’s too late. He’s gone and… and there’s nothing….”

Tears streamed down his face, and Harry pleaded silently with the fates, with anyone who might listen. _“Please, Merlin, please, spare him.”_

“Harry Potter!” Dobby’s squeaky voice forced Harry to whip his head up. “Oh, Great Master Harry Potter sir, there’s being no need to cry. Dobby has help!”

“D-Dobby?” Harry gasped. “ _Dobby_!” He grabbed the elf’s shoulders. “Listen to me. Can you get….” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Professor Snape and keep him safe? Keep him out of the bloody lake. Don’t let the Triwizard task choose him.”

Dobby blinked. “Pr—”

“ _Ssh_ !” Harry slapped a hand over the elf’s mouth. “Don’t say his name out loud if I'm acting as his friend! Never say it out loud! He’ll be _killed_ if anyone knows the truth.”

Dobby whimpered and went to yank his ears, but Harry gently guided his hands away. “Easy. It’s all right. You didn’t know. Just don’t say his real name when you're talking about him as my friend or that we’re not enemies where anyone can hear, okay?”

Dobby nodded and wiped big tears from his eyes with one hand. Only then did Harry notice his other hand held something wet and slimy.

“Er… Dobby? Why do you have gillyweed?”

Dobby perked up at the mention of it. “Dobby is bringing it for Harry Potter, sir! So’s you can finish the second task. It’s be helping you breathe underwater so you is not losing your wheezy.”

Harry frowned. “Well, I know that, Dobby. I already have gillyweed in my dorm ready to go. Where did you get this?”

Dobby lowered his ears. “I’s be taking it from Professor Snapey’s stores.”

Harry winced. “Shite.” He sighed and took the gillyweed. “Well, we’ve more important things to worry about anyway. What time is it?”

“Is being ten to, Great Master Harry Potter, sir. You must be hurrying.”

“Ten _to_? Oh, gods. So they already have him, and—wait.” Harry gripped Dobby’s shoulders. “Wait, what did you say? What is this to keep me from losing?”

“Your wheezy, Great Master Harry Potter, sir.”

“My… wheezy?”

“Your redhead wheezy.”

“ _Weasley_ .” Harry gave a choked sob of relief. “Oh thank the gods, they chose Ron.” He blanched and swayed on the spot. “Oh, shite. They’ve got _Ron_.” He stuffed the gillyweed in his pocket and jerked to his feet. “Thanks, Dobby! Gotta run. Remember not to say anything about….”

“Yes, I’s remember. You is better hurrying, Great Master Ha—”

“Yes, you’re right, thank you!” With a wave, Harry dashed out of the library, relief and terror mingling within his chest. “Coming, Ron. Just hold on a bit longer….”

* * *

Severus had brought Harry to a warded classroom after the second task, mainly to reassure himself that the boy was well. 

Several diagnostic scans and vocal confirmations from Harry later, Severus caught the boy into his arms and murmured, “ _Never_ terrify me like that again. You were ten minutes past the hour mark and I thought you’d been hurt. Killed. I was so afraid, and I had to act _pleased_. Gods, I hate this.”

Harry kissed Severus’ cheek and whispered against his jaw, “I promised I’d never leave you. I meant it.”

Severus held him tight. “I….” With a shudder, he forced himself back under control. “Forgive me.”

“It’s all right. I was terrified too. How did you get around the choosing spell?”

Severus snorted. “There _was_ no spell. Bagman simply asked the headmasters of each school whom they thought their champion would miss the most.”

“Interesting. And Karkaroff chose Hermione?”

“Karkaroff chose some woman Krum had been arranged to marry, but Madame Maxime provided evidence that Krum had far more gentle feelings towards your friend than his would-be wife. Bagman went with Maxime’s suggestion.”

Harry shuddered. “It was awful to find not only Ron there, but Hermione, too. And I suppose it _was_ a bit stupid of me to take Gabrielle back. I should’ve known they wouldn’t really kill her. But even so, I just couldn’t _leave_ her there. It was terrifying.” His expression darkened. “And they’ve already done murder of innocents once in this bloody sham of a tournament.”

Severus smoothed Harry’s hair and tucked him under his chin. “I am sorry, child. I know it troubles you greatly.”

“I’ll never forget the way the mum screamed when she knew.”

“Merlin, neither shall I.” 

Harry gave him a tearful smile, though he kept his eyes shut. “I’m glad you understand. Everyone else thinks I’m barmy to grieve for dragons.”

“You are mourning the loss of innocent lives. Even if I am not personally so affected, I can understand your pain and commend you for your ability to love.”

Harry tucked his head back under Severus’ chin. “Is it wrong, Az? Is there something wrong with me?”

“No, child. You simply have a tender heart under the sarcasm and cursing.”

“You’re calling _me_ sarcastic?”

Severus chuckled. “Perhaps you have learned from me.” He pulled back with a sigh. “I am glad you are well. I feared the gillyweed would expire before you reached the surface.”

“It nearly did.” Harry winced. “Wait, the gillyweed. Az, I’ll have to pay you for it or something. The bit I used came from Dobby, and Dobby thieved it from your private stores before the task.”

“ _Dobby_ did?” Severus moved behind Harry so the boy might open his eyes and laid a hand on his shoulder. “How strange. How did a house elf even know to give it to you?”

Harry hesitated. “That… is a very good question. Dobby!”

The house elf appeared with a bow. “How’s can I be helping you, Great Master Harry Potter, sir? Is you needing more gillyweed?”

Harry chuckled. “No, no. I’m finished with the task, Dobby. But I would like to know how you knew to bring it to me.”

Dobby looked worriedly at Harry.

“It’s okay, Dobby. Azrael is a friend. A friend I trust with my life. He’d never hurt me.”

“Nor will I harm you, sir elf.”

Dobby gasped. “I is… you is calling _me_ sir? I is just a house elf!”

“It is basic respect,” said Severus in a low, gentle voice. “And I do try to be respectful to all living things.” He squeezed Harry’s shoulder to let the boy know who had taught him such respect.

Harry flashed him a smile, eyes closed. “Thanks, Az.” He turned back to Dobby. “It’s okay, Dobby. Please tell us how you heard.”

Dobby tugged on his ear, but didn’t hurt himself. Yet. “Well, I… Professor Mad-Eyes is calling Dobby to the staff room to pick up his laundry. And when I gets there, he is talking to Professor Tabby about the second task. He asked if any of the champions is thinking to use gillyweed and said it makes you breathe underwater, so I’s be bringing you some.”

“Convenient,” said Harry with a grimace.

“Staged, is more like,” said Severus. “Combined with Moody’s _assistance_ prior to the first task, Harry, I think it is safe to say the man wants to see you win the cup. And knowing that, it is also possible that he is the one who put your name in at the start of this mess, but _why_? What could he possibly have to gain?”

“Other than seeing me killed?”

“Why would he wish you to win if that was his goal?”

“I… good point.” Harry rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just got a bet on me. I know Bagman’s betting on us even though he’s not supposed to. He said he put a thousand galleons on me to win. I reckon if Moody bet that much on me, he’d be eager to see me win it too.”

“A _thousand_?” Severus shook his head wryly. “So much money for a lark. Where on earth did he come up with it? I did not believe him to be so wealthy.”

“Where does anyone come up with gambling money?” Harry shrugged. “I dunno, but regardless, what do you think, Az? Is it possible?”

“Likely, rather. I cannot see any other reason that Mad-Eye would be so invested in your win. It is strange, however. I did not think him one that was given to gambling.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, but….” Harry leaned into Severus’ chest and shivered. “Maybe we should keep a closer eye on him just in case there’s more behind it than a simple bet.”

Severus tugged Harry closer, wishing he could shield his friend from all evil. “Yes. I think that is wise.”

* * *

Harry left Gladrags with piles of colourful socks, hats, and shorts for Dobby. He and his friends had had hours of fun picking out the most lurid of the lot—even Hermione had enjoyed herself—and Harry reckoned their barmy elf friend would be thrilled with their haul. 

Ron plucked the vivid orange Cannons scarf Harry had bought him out of his friend’s pile and wound it around his neck. “Now that’s done, where to next?”

Harry shrank the rest of his purchases and pocketed them. “Hmm. I’m a bit peckish. Maybe the Three B’s for lunch?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hermione agreed, and the three of them set off for the tavern. 

Xerxes cawed and landed on Harry’s shoulder halfway there. “Oh, hello, Xerxes.” Harry scratched the bird’s neck and petted his feathers. “Did you need something or are you just here for a visit?” By the way Xerxes settled down on his shoulder and gave a contented whirr, Harry gathered it was the latter and continued towards the tavern. “Glad to see you too.”

“Hello, Xerxes.” Hermione tentatively lifted a hand towards the bird, but Xerxes jolted and moved away. “Oh, I’m sorry. I won’t.” She dropped her hand and wrapped her arms around her waist instead, her expression full of hurt.

“Hermione, it’s not you.” Harry lowered his voice so the nearby public couldn’t hear. “I don’t think anyone but me has ever touched him, at least not in kindness. He was only shocked, I think. Maybe a little scared. I don’t think he hates you or anything.”

Hermione’s face fell. “Oh. How very sad.” She lifted a hesitant hand once more, but did not try to touch the bird yet. “May I, Xerxes?”

Xerxes bobbed his head cautiously, and Hermione petted his back and head. His crow feet tensed on Harry’s shoulders, but he did not draw away.

“It’s all right, Xerxes,” Harry murmured. “You’re safe. It’s okay.”

“Oh, he’s shaking.” Hermione let her hand fall and moved away. “Maybe you should take care of him instead, Harry. I don’t think he wants me to—you know.”

Xerxes tugged a strand of Hermione’s hair and gave a little low caw, an uncertain sound, but not cruel. 

“Actually, Hermione, I think he’s just overwhelmed.” Harry soothed his friend with slow, gentle strokes down his chest. “He’s not really used to being accepted. To being loved for who he is.”

Xerxes nudged Harry’s cheek and cawed softly, his feathers trembling under Harry’s hands.

“Yes, I love you, my friend. Always have, always will. And my friends are coming around too, now that they’ve seen who you really are.”

“He’s a good man,” Hermione said with a sad smile. “I’m sorry it took us awhile to understand that.”

“Same here,” said Ron with a wry nod. “I’m not going to pet you, though.”

Xerxes gave his crow laugh. Harry chuckled too.

“That’s all right by him, I think. And—” A sharp bark cut across Harry and froze him to the spot. “Damn it. Not _again_.”

Harry turned to find the bloody Grim haunting him again, pacing and snarling under his breath outside the Three Broomsticks, eyes fixed on Xerxes. Xerxes’ talons gripped Harry’s shoulder and his wings spread in preparation for flight, but he didn’t take to the air yet.

Harry drew himself to his full height and drew his wand. “Hold still, Xerxes. I’ll protect you.”

The crow nodded and held firm, though Harry felt him shaking. He shielded his friend with his hand and a magical barrier and faced down their unwanted guest.

“You,” Harry snapped. “Did I not make it clear enough the last time you accosted me? I’m not interested. _Get lost_!”

“I’ll handle it, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “I know just the thing.”

Hermione cast a spell on Harry, which caused both Black to run away with a yelp and Xerxes to rocket into the air with a sharp screech. 

Harry watched Xerxes give a few dazed loops far above and cough as if he couldn’t breathe properly. “Shite! ‘Mione, what did you _do_?”

She stared at the sky with a bemused expression. “Well, it’s just a simple charm, but it wasn’t supposed to bother Xerxes. Maybe I didn’t accent the incantation correctly.”

“Hermione. What spell was it?”

“Oh. It’s a spell to make you smell terrible to canines. But, like I said, it shouldn’t have bothered Xerxes.”

Harry barely suppressed a flinch. Of course it would affect Xerxes. Underneath the feathers and beak, he was a canine tengu.

“In that case, maybe it’s best to just take the spell off. If you’ve made me stink to all animals, or even just Animagi, we’re going to have trouble in Transfiguration.”

“Urgh, good point. _Finite Canis Incanta_.”

“Still,” said Ron with a wry grin, “might be a good idea to keep that one handy for the next time Lupin and Black harass us.”

“Y-yeah,” Harry said with a wan smile. “For now, let’s just get some lunch before the giant idiot works out that the smell is gone.”

Hermione gave him a searching look, but said nothing. Harry kept his eyes on the road lest she work out more of his secrets than he could safely give. 

* * *

Azrael had conjured a sofa and a coffee table, but Harry couldn’t stop pacing. A few moments before, while walking around the edge of the forest with Ron, he had discovered Crouch Senior staggering about the Hogwarts grounds and giving orders as if he had never left the office. Apparently, he still hadn’t learned Percy’s proper name. Krum and Hermione had come upon them near the same time, much to Ron’s chagrin, and in the interest of keeping his friends on speaking terms and Crouch alive, he had left Krum to watch over the addled man while he and his friends went for help. 

“I just don’t understand it, Azrael. He was _gone_. Vanished. And someone had stunned Krum. Crouch couldn’t have—he had no idea where he was.”

“Unless it was an act, Harry.”

Harry pulled up short. “Merlin. It could have been, now you mention it.” He shook his head. “But I honestly don’t think it was. He looked—I don’t know, Az. He looked… mad most of the time, but then he sort of snapped out of it sometimes and begged me for help. But the next moment, he was back to spouting off about Weatherby and teapots or something or other.”

From his dark corner, hidden where Harry couldn’t see him even as he paced, Azrael snorted. 

“What?”

“Teapots and spouting.”

“Oh. This is hardly the time to joke, Az. Something serious is going on.”

Azrael sighed. “I know, child. But as of now, I do not know what to tell you. It is possible someone has Crouch under the _Imperius_ curse. It is also possible he has touched something he should not have done and addled his brains. There is no telling, and without finding him, we shall never know. I am more concerned about Krum at the moment. Was he injured or altered in any way?”

“Not that I could tell,” said Harry with a frown. “Did your… _powers_ sense anything?”

“No. I could detect no trace of dark magic, only the lingering signature of a stunning spell.”

“The headmaster said the same.” Harry flopped upon the sofa with a huff. “I’m scared, Az. It’s coming soon, isn’t it?”

“I fear so, child. Have you had any further visions?”

“Only little twinges here and again. I sense his emotions sometimes, but that’s all. No full dreams like before.”

Azrael’s breath hitched. “His _emotions_?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“That… is not good.”

“I know.”

Azrael hesitated. “Close your eyes, little one.”

Harry obeyed, and he listened to Azrael’s steps approach and stop nearby, then felt the whoosh of air and fabric and feathers as he sat on the floor in front of Harry’s legs, back turned to him. Harry sank his hands in Azrael’s hair, comforted by the feel of his silky locks through his fingers.

“I shall speak to Albus concerning your visions, or rather, your lack of them and what you have sensed in the meantime. But I fear there is little to be done about Crouch other than keep an eye out for him.”

“Yeah. It’s just….” Harry let his breath out in a rush. “What does it all _mean_ , Az?”

“It means the same thing it has always done, my friend: war is coming again, and you and I had best be prepared for the worst.”

Harry cringed. “I was afraid you would say that.”

* * *

Just before the third task took place, Harry received a note from Flourish and Blotts. Unsure what in Merlin’s name the shopkeeper would have contacted him about, he took the note to his room to read. 

 

> _ Mister Potter,  _
> 
> _ I have searched high and low for a copy of Demons and Spirits of the East by Saito Tamaki, but all available copies are located in Japan, and I am unable to obtain one. Their laws forbid exporting books on yokai, but an interested buyer might purchase one himself, should he ever travel to the country.  _
> 
> _ I suggest, if you are still interested in the book, that you make a trip to Japan and purchase it yourself. I have included a list of sellers that have it available, to the best of my knowledge. Good luck with the final task, and I hope you will consider Flourish and Blotts for your future literary needs. _
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Paulus J. Blott_

 

Harry glamoured the note carefully and put it away in his trunk. He hadn’t the opportunity to travel to Japan, unfortunately, but at least his wandless healing negated the need for a spell to sheathe Severus’ claws. Merlin, he’d been so worried about the tournament and everything else that had happened since then, he’d forgotten about his request to Flourish and Blotts. 

Well, he would let Severus know about it when he learned to Occlude—until then, even the mention of it to Azrael could be dangerous. For now, he had to practise his defensive spells and duelling and pray he pulled out of the final task in one piece. 

* * *

Harry, having trained in defence under Severus and Albus for two years and having the benefit of wandless elemental magic and healing, arrived first at the cup, a little worn and winded but mostly intact. Cedric was nowhere in sight, and both Krum and Fleur had been disqualified, so he had a clear path to victory.

Fuck. He didn’t _want_ victory. 

With a sigh, he reached out to take the cup just as Cedric bolted into the clearing with an Acromantula on his heels. 

“Run!” 

Cedric grabbed Harry’s hand as if to drag him away, but in the motion, both boys fell, landing atop the cup in a heap. And as soon as Harry touched the cold metal, the world spun into darkness with an almighty lurch. He came to in an old graveyard, surrounded by headstones and darkness. Cedric helped him to his feet and frowned at their surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“I’ve no idea.” Harry shuddered and looked about, but he saw nothing but headstones and darkness and _evil_. Gods, something was wrong. 

“You reckon this is part of the task?”

“I seriously doubt it. That was a portkey, and Riddle’s after my life. I think we just landed in the middle of a bloody war.”

Cedric went ashen. “Merlin. The cup… let’s get out of here.”

Out of nowhere, a sharp cry rang out. “ _Kill the spare_!”

Harry dropped, dragging Cedric with him, but not fast enough. 

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

Cedric fell, his body heavy and stiff, and Harry’s heart cracked. 

“No,” he breathed.

“Harry Potter,” came the high, cold voice he hated most in the world. “How kind of you to join us this evening.”

******

Somehow, Harry escaped the graveyard with the cup and Cedric’s body in tow. Everything afterward blurred into a drunk haze of grief and confusion. 

_‘Voldemort is alive. Pettigrew is alive. Cedric is dead. Cedric. Innocent. Shouldn’t have been there. Shouldn’t be dead.’_

 But the Minister refused to hear it. The crowd was too panicked to understand. Amos could only scream for the loss of his son, and his anguish-laden wails burned such a white-hot press of grief and guilt into Harry’s soul, he couldn’t see, couldn’t think.

_‘Don’t want it. Blood money.’_

_‘Azrael. Where’s Azrael?’_

_‘Another innocent life lost to this godsforsaken tournament.’_

_‘Murdered. Gone. Dead.’_

Harry came out of his grief-haze with a jolt at the feel of his bum hitting hard wood. What the hell? Where was he? How did he even get here? He didn’t remember. Everything from the past few minutes had blurred into a miasma of pain. _Cedric._ The grief clawed at him again, but Harry shoved it back viciously. He had to focus. Something was wrong—he sensed it—and he had to keep his wits about him if he wanted to survive, to keep his promise to Severus. 

_‘I promised I would never leave you, and I meant it.’_

To spare Severus that same miasma of grief, Harry gripped the surface beneath his bum—a tabletop?—and tried to get his bearings. He sat in what looked like a professor’s office, one he thought he should recognise. A giant foe glass sat opposite him with three hazy forms inside, each gaining definition by the second. Were those wings on the back of one? Gods, Harry hoped only he could see them.

“Just wait there a moment, lad. I’ll get a drink for you. Calm you right down.”

Harry’s nails dug half-moons into the wood under his fingers. Moody. Fuck. He was alone in Mad-Eye’s office, and the man was going to try to give him something to drink. _Hell_ no.

Why had Mad-Eye taken him from the tournament in the first place? Harry never should have been removed from the headmaster’s presence, not after what he had been through. 

A shiver of dread set every hair on his body on end. The vibrations going mad in his pocket only strengthened his apprehension. 

The sneakoscope. Moody was the bloody spy.

“I’m not thirsty, thanks,” Harry said and leapt from the table, heading for the door. 

“Oh, I don’t think so, lad. We’re going to have a little _talk_.”

The _Imperius_ curse he threw had all his power behind it, but even weakened and weary as he was, Harry still threw it off. He wondered if it was only his bracelet or if he had some kind of natural resistance to it. Maybe he could test it with Severus soon, if he survived. 

No. He _had_ to survive. He had promised.

“Get away from me,” Harry snapped and staggered for the door. 

Just as he reached for the knob, a spell hit him in the back. As Harry’s bracelet offered no resistance to the body-bind curse, he dropped, his body stiff as a plank, and hit the floor, hard. Merlin, that had hurt. He couldn’t breathe. Stars swam before his eyes and his chest ached. 

He owed Neville an apology for hitting him with this in first year. He hadn’t imagined it would be so painful.

“Now then.” Moody levitated Harry onto the table and gave him a feral grin. It pulled at the auror’s scars, giving him a maniacal look. “I’ve waited a long time for this, Mister Potter. You almost cocked it all up—who knew the chosen one would have such an independent streak?”

Harry could only stare at him. He watched the forms in Moody’s foe glass creep ever closer and hoped the idiot would keep talking long enough not to turn around too soon.

“Had to help you in the first task, didn’t I? _Play to your strengths,_ boy. Hadn’t imagined you’d think to Summon your broom, but it worked well enough. But Merlin, you almost threw all my hard work away in the second task! _Gillyweed_ —it was in the book I gave Longbottom, but you never thought to ask him, did you? No, nearly killed yourself searching for ways to survive all on your own right up until ten minutes before the task.”

Harry had known how to survive the second task fifteen minutes after the first one, but he couldn’t have said anything about it even if he had wanted to, and he didn’t. Let Moody think his ‘independent streak’ had interfered with his plans. As long as he was angry and ranting, he wasn’t hurting Harry, and in the foe glass, the features of Harry’s allies had grown clearer. 

“Had to send Dobby after you to keep you alive. Good thing I noticed that mad elf’s devotion to you, hmm?”

Harry had begun to see the outline of Severus’ feathers against the mist. Just a moment longer.

“And the third task—did you _really_ think it would be so easy, boy? I cleared your path for you.”

Hmm. Harry had certainly run into enough dangers with or without Moody’s ‘help.’

“You almost ruined it all, but we got there in the end, didn’t we?” Moody gave a sharp, twisted laugh. “And now, it’s done. My master will rule Britain, and it’s all thanks to you.”

Harry’s eyes flicked to the bastard. A Death Eater. The shitehead was a bloody _Death Eater_ . Merlin, Harry _really_ needed to have a talk with Dumbledore about his hiring choices.

To his horror, as he watched, Moody’s features began to bubble and melt like hot wax. The magical eye popped out and rolled across the room, spinning wildly. His greyish-sandy hair turned dark, and the one blue eye Harry remembered shifted to brown. 

Wait. Harry knew that face.

Crouch. Barty Crouch Junior. What the _hell_? Hadn’t he died in Azkaban?

“Surprised to see me?” 

Considering he was supposed to be dead, yes.

Crouch picked up the potion he’d gathered earlier—poison, Harry had no doubt it was poison. "What, cat got your tongue?" Crouch gave a twisted laugh. "Oh, wait. That was me!"

In the foe glass, Severus' eyes searched for Harry. Harry looked away so as not to draw Moody's attention to his approaching doom.

"Now, Potter, don't be afraid." Crouch lifted the phial of purple potion into the light. "This will keep you nice and compliant for whatever our lord wishes to do with you. You won't even know when he kills you, as you should have died fourteen years ago." He reached for Harry's clenched jaw. "Open up!"

The door burst open, and Azrael swept inside, wand aimed for Crouch's head.

“ _Stupefy_!”

Crouch dropped like a stone, and Harry had never been so glad to see Azrael in his life. 

“ _Finite_!” Azrael caught Harry in his arms and checked him with shaking hands and tears in his eyes. “Are you safe? Are you well?”

Harry threw his arms around Azrael and sobbed. “Fine. You came just in time.”

“Oh, thank _Merlin_.”

Azrael cradled him close, and Harry could only cling to him and tremble that he had come so close to disaster yet _again_.

“S-so much for a normal year, huh?”

Azrael’s laugh came out tinged with the sound of tears. 

* * *

Harry woke up in the Infirmary once more, a head of long, black hair draped over his shoulder and claw-tipped fingers tangled in his nightshirt. 

“Se—” He remembered his wits just in time. “Azrael.” He traced his fingers through the tengu’s hair, waking him. Azrael bolted up, his eyes wide and searching, and Harry grimaced at the sight of him. Not only because he could see Severus through his glamours, plain as day, but because the man’s face was beaten and bloody and the red around his eyes hadn’t come only from tears.

“Oh gods.” Harry patted the bed beside him. “Hurry, get up here and hide your face.”

“Harry, oh, child.” Azrael climbed onto the bed and clutched Harry in his arms. “I am so afraid.”

“I know.” Harry wept in Azrael’s shirt even as he poured healing magic into his friend. “I am too.”

“It was Moody. All along, it was Moody—or Crouch, rather.” Azrael shuddered and buried his face in Harry’s hair. “I should have known. That void in his spirit—he had masked his dark mark and evil nature. I am such a fool.”

Harry gasped. "A void… did it conceal his magical signature?"

Azrael hesitated. "I believe so. It would have had to done for me not to notice the change." He shook his head. "The dark lord knew I would find him if he did not mask his spy well, and as I had no reason to believe the spy was not a threat to Death Eaters…."

"He hid the bastard. So well, he didn't show up on the map."

Severus blinked. "Now that you mention it, I do not recall ever seeing Moody's name move from the map. He was always in that same place in his office whenever I looked."

"The trunk."

"Yes. Merlin. I thought it was his office chair."

"So did I, but… no. I remember seeing… Moody was in his office that day we went to see Albus about the second task, and something about it _bothered_ me. I couldn't work out what it was until now. His desk was in the wrong place."

Azrael grimaced. "I should have checked the positioning. Damn. I am so sorry."

Harry kissed Azrael’s hair and shushed him. “Easy. This isn’t your fault. It’s not even mine. We did everything we could with what we had.” He sighed and turned his head in to Severus’ shoulder. “I… I just wish I could’ve saved Cedric. This wasn’t his war.”

Azrael stroked Harry’s hair. “It was—it is the war of every wizarding citizen—but I understand.” He pressed a light kiss to Harry’s temple. “It was not your fault, child. You tried to save him.”

“I… I know. But it hurts.”

“Yes. I feel as though I failed him too.”

Harry sighed and hugged his friend tight. “What’s being done? Anything? Is Fudge still denying anything happened?”

“Of course. It is apparently the official stance of the Ministry that you are mad and dangerous and the Dark Lord is dead and will remain so.”

“Even with everything?”

“Yes. I am afraid Fudge is quite good at denying the facts, even when they are shoved under his rather protuberant nose.”

Harry growled. “Ruddy coward.” He sighed and rubbed Azrael's hair, healing powers warm and tingly on his palms. “So what does this mean for us, Az? What do we do now?”

“We fight, Harry. We fight, and we go on. There is nothing more we _can_ do.”

“Yeah. I suppose you’re right.”

Harry buried his face in Azrael’s chest and let his friend’s heartbeat ward away his fears, if only for the moment.


	15. Lover's Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, since I'm sick and quarantined on my birthday, I figured I'd use the extra downtime to give y'all a gift, too. So I'm updating. A lot.
> 
> Part 3 of the Great Birthdate Update, coming up! 🤣
> 
> Also, yes, I'm aware 16 is the age of consent in England. It is here, too, but only if the teen's partner isn't more than 4 years older. So according to our laws, Sev still has to keep it platonic for 2 more years. Also, plot.

#  **Chapter 15**

##  _Lover’s Sight_

###  _1JULY, 1996_

Severus watched the Hogwarts Express leave the station from the shadows, secure in the knowledge that Harry would be safe with his friends, at least for a little while. Severus intended to join him as Xerxes later, but first, he had something crucial to discuss with Albus. He gave the disappearing train one last look and hurried to the headmaster’s office. Albus must have expected him—the man had already retreated into his quarters and had tea and biscuits ready to go.

“Come in, Severus,” Albus called.

Severus made himself comfortable and, for the first time in months, let his glamours drop. Merlin, it felt good to be himself again, even if he could only let his true appearance show here, where he knew Albus had warded the rooms to the high heavens. 

“I suspect you have come to tell me of your worries concerning Harry’s clairvoyance.”

Severus nodded and set his tea aside. “He cannot possibly be clairvoyant. If he was, he would have seen through Crouch’s disguise from the start.”

“Yes. As our dear Luna apparently did, but, bless her, she believed no one would listen if she spoke up about it. I have corrected her since, and I do hope she will bring up any further concerns immediately in the future.”

“As do I,” said Severus, “but about Harry?”

“Yes. You are correct, Severus. He is not clairvoyant.” Albus gave him a wry smile. “I am afraid in our hurry to see Harry as the hero, the Chosen One, and, simultaneously, as a child, we have, ah, shall we say… missed the forest for the trees?”

Severus gave him a dark look. “Albus.”

“I am saying that there is a simple explanation, Severus. Far simpler than you or I have attributed to him prior to now. Besides a clairvoyant, who are, after all, quite rare, there is _one_ other type of person who is always able to see a certain yokai, glamours and spells or no.”

Severus frowned. “There is? I… I cannot think of any. As far as I know, a clairvoyant is the only one who might be able to see yokai and—wait!” Heart thundering, Severus jerked forward and clutched the armrest to keep from swaying. “Lovegood—does she know about _me_?”

“Peace.” Albus laid a hand on Severus’ arm, calming him. “Yes, Luna does know, but she will not harm you. She also knows your true nature and sees how much you love Harry. She will not endanger your life, and I have secured a vow from her to that affect as well.”

“You… you are certain?”

“Yes, Severus. You are safe.”

Severus breathed again, relief slowing his racing heart. “Thank Merlin.” He unclenched his claws from Albus’ sofa, fearful he might tear the upholstery. “But I still do not understand, Albus. What other person is able to see yokai through all glamours and invisibility spells?”

Albus chuckled softly. “That, Severus, is where we went wrong. You see, Harry is not able to see _all_ yokai, or he would know that our dear Luna is a yokai herself. She is an Amabie, from her mother’s line.”

“ _Luna_ is a yokai? Merlin. I could never scent her.”

“She is not dark, Severus. Not in the least. Only prophetic and inclined to water.”

“Ah. That would explain her skill with the element. But what of Harry then?”

“Well, think of it, Severus. What being do you know of that is able to see one yokai at all times—only _one_ , not all—so long as they accept said yokai as good and worthy?”

Severus’ breath stilled. His heart gave a stuttered thump and stopped. Every hair on his body stood on end, and a nervous, quivery sensation flooded his stomach. 

Plain as day, the verse his mother had taught him long ago rang in his ears.

_‘When love acknowledges you as good and right,_

_When love accepts you, both darkness and light,_

_Then love will see you, with true lover’s sight_. _’_

Severus’ heart started again with an almighty thump. His pulse raced and his breath rushed out in an explosive sigh. It couldn’t be true, could it? And yet, it _had_ to be. No other explanation fit.

“Lover’s sight… dear gods, he is my _mate_?”

Albus nodded and took Severus’ hand in his own. “It relieves me to know you will not be left alone after I am gone.”

Tears poured down Severus’ face. His mate. Oh, _gods_ , he had a mate! And it was _Harry_! A boy who already loved him dearly and might, in time, come to love him in deeper ways. 

After all this time, Severus had a mate—and one who _accepted_ him. He squeezed Albus’ hand for ballast among the riptide of his emotions and buried his face in his wing.

“Oh, _gods_. Albus… is it true?”

“Yes, child.” The old man sat beside him and wrapped Severus in a gentle hug. “There now. Do not weep so. Harry adores you. In time, I think he will see you as more, if he has not begun to already.”

Severus shivered. “He is only fifteen yet. I would not—I swear, I will not—”

“Ssh. I know. I trust you, Severus. With my life, and his.”

Severus clung to Albus’ robes and wept like a small child, relief and wonder and all-encompassing fear rendering him helpless. “A-Albus, we are apparent enemies, and the Dark Lord is alive and well again. We are on opposite sides of a war, at least on the surface. How am I to—what will happen to us?”

Albus held Severus tight and murmured, “We will defeat the Dark Lord together. We will….” His voice broke. “Find a way to keep Harry safe throughout this darkness. I swear that. I _will_ find a way. And then, when this is over, you will be happy and grow old together. I expect an invitation to the bonding, when he is old enough.”

Severus gave a choked laugh. “Bonding? Albus, Merlin. You do not even know if he will wish for me.”

“I have faith, my boy. That is enough, for now.”

Severus wiped his face and nodded, clinging to that hope for all he was worth. “I… yes. I… faith is… good.”

“Indeed.”

After a long moment, Severus was able to pull himself together. “My mate. I… it is difficult to believe. I had resigned myself to being alone.”

“You shan’t have to be now.” Albus’ expression held fierce determination. “I will make sure of it.”

“Albus?”

The old man squeezed his hands. “The war is a terrifying prospect, Severus, but this is the one spot of beautiful news we have had for so long. Stay and celebrate a bit, will you?”

Severus flushed and gave him a wry smile. “Harry expects Xerxes to join him soon, but I suppose I could do for a little while, so long as I am not left too intoxicated to fly.”

Albus chuckled. “No, no. We shall be good boys and drink lightly.” He patted Severus’ hand. “I _am_ happy for you, Severus.”

Severus lowered his head, overwhelmed by his mentor’s kindness. “I… I think, Albus, it is safest not to become too attached to the idea yet. I do not know if Harry is open to accepting me as a romantic partner as well as a friend, and he is still too young regardless. I think it is safest for everyone involved if, until he is old enough and the war is no longer a threat, I consider him a friend, and only a friend. It is simply too dangerous to think on other possibilities yet.”

“Perhaps you are right, but it _is_ good news, isn’t it? That other possibilities exist for you, child, or rather, that they will exist in a little over two years’ time?”

Severus blinked back tears. “Y-yes. It is… the dearest dream of my heart to have a family one day, and for my one true mate to be Harry, Merlin, I could not ask for a better choice. But it is too early to hope. Too early to allow myself that liberty. Still, it is good to know the option may be open to us in the future.”

Albus nodded and poured them both a generous serving of coconut rum, the old man’s favourite. “I have great hopes for you both.” 

Severus smiled to himself. “I… I cannot yet say that I am ready to embrace such hope, but… it gives me courage to fight. To be strong in spite of everything the next two years—and after—may bring.” He gave Albus a pained look. “The world will not welcome us, even if all does work out in our favour.”

“There are places that will, Severus. You are not bound to Britain, if you find the homophobia prevalent among our purebloods too oppressive.” Albus sipped his rum with a warm smile. “And, do keep in mind that you owe them nothing. You have given seventeen years of your life to keep them safe, and so much more besides. If they cannot embrace your sacrifice and courage, then to hell with them. You deserve to be happy.”

Severus nearly choked on his rum. “I have never heard you swear.”

Albus chuckled softly. “Perhaps Harry is having an effect on me. Either way, I do mean it, child. Be happy, and do not fear what others might think of it. Those who love you will accept it in the end, though it may take some time for them to come to terms with the person you truly are, as it did for Ron and Hermione.”

“They do not know who I truly am, not entirely, and I hope they never do, but….” Severus gave Albus a shy smile. “To know that they, at least, will accept my human visage is a relief.”

“Indeed.” Albus raised his glass and murmured, “To love and happiness, and to new beginnings.”

Severus hoped he lived long enough to experience that new beginning and hope for himself. For the moment, he was content to stay by Harry’s side and help him grow into a man, help him fight so they might, one day, be free to make a future together. For now, it was enough just to know Harry was happy and safe. 

“To new beginnings and hope for a future.”

One day, he promised himself, they would be free to build one together, whether they did so as friends or mates. One day, the world would be safe enough to do so. He would make sure of it.

* * *

Well, Harry had _finally_ done it. During the long weeks at Privet Drive with nothing to do other than cook, clean, and drown in his grief, he had finally learned to Occlude. Between his fears that Severus would be caught, his loneliness at night when he had only Xerxes and Hedwig to comfort him but longed for Severus, and his crippling grief for Cedric, he had never been so motivated to learn. He had spent most of the first few weeks of summer testing and rearranging his shields, and at last, they worked, and they worked damn well. As long as he Occluded, nothing could trouble him.

Nothing, except the Ministry’s wilful blindness concerning Riddle and the war. Harry scoffed at another Prophet headline—sent along with a copy of the Quibbler via Luna’s new owl, Aphrodite—and tossed it in the rubbish bin. Ridiculous. The Quibbler made more sense these days. With a huff, he took the magazine to his room to read. At least the headlines might make him laugh here and there, when they could break through the haze of despair that had cloaked his spirit as of late. A bit like the haze that had fallen over Britain as a whole. 

Dementor mist. Lovely stuff. Gods, who knew those vile things could _breed_? Well, Harry supposed they must do or their kind would eventually die out, but _Merlin_ , it was a terrifying thought. How did they even—

Wait. On second thought, he _really_ didn't want to know.

With a shudder, he returned his attention to Wobbly Woobugglers and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. The more he read about them, the more he thought that Luna’s odd creatures must actually be spirits of some sort. True demons, perhaps. Not like Severus.

The thought sent a pang of loneliness through his chest. He could finally Occlude, and it was safe to see Severus again at last, but the yokai hadn’t come in a week. Harry knew he had no choice, given the new situation, but _gods_ , he missed him. Blinking back tears, he turned the ring on his finger and prayed Severus would heed it this time. 

* * *

Severus felt Harry’s summons, but he couldn’t answer it. The Dark Lord had requested a potion, and if Severus intended to make it appear evil without actually being so, he needed all his focus. 

Another two days passed before he could drag himself from the lab, and after a quick shower and a bite and an urgent Patronus message to warn Kingsley about the coming attack, he gathered what attention and magic he had left to apparate to Privet Drive. Just in time for Harry’s birthday.

Harry jumped up when Severus arrived, eyes wide and worry flooding his features, but he neither looked away nor closed his eyes. 

“Harry?”

“You’re safe, Severus. Test me.”

Severus grimaced. “It shall have to wait until I have more power. At the moment, I am drained.” He barely had enough magic left to silence and ward the room. Legilimency was out until he could focus again.

Harry moved to Severus’ side and slid his arm under the yokai’s, bracing him. “Come on. Lie down and rest. You look knackered.”

“Haven’t… been able to leave the lab… in three days.”

Harry’s breath hitched. “Three _days_? No wonder you’ve not come in a while. I take it Riddle’s been forcing you into brewing again?”

“Yes.” Severus rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and sighed. So warm. So safe. He hadn’t felt safe for weeks.

“Come on, Sev. Let’s get you to bed. You can rest there until you’re feeling better.”

Severus forced his head up and gave Harry a wan smile. “First, I have… a gift.”

“Well, sit down before you give it to me at least.”

Severus let Harry guide him to the edge of his bed and groaned. Even the boy’s hard, lumpy mattress felt like clouds after three straight days without a break. Harry rubbed Severus’ back and shoulders gently and smoothed his hair. 

“Have you had anything to eat, Sev?”

“Yes. Have you?”

Harry flinched and looked away. “Er… I had… some bread. Yesterday morning.”

Severus’ eyes hardened. “They are starving you.”

“The plagues haven’t been as frequent.” Harry stared at his lap and tugged at the drawstring to his sleep trousers. “They’ve noticed.”

Severus dropped his head in guilt and sorrow. “Oh, Harry. I am so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Severus. They’re just evil wankers.”

Severus wrapped Harry in his arms and tucked the boy under his chin. Gods, he felt so _right_. How had he gone so many years without putting the facts together? Of _course_ Harry was his mate. No one else had ever loved him like Harry did.

Well, there was time enough to think of those things later. For now, he only wanted Harry to be safe and happy.

“Mm.” Harry curled into him and sighed, the tension fading from his body. “ _Gods_ , I’ve missed this. Holding you. Calling you by your proper name.”

“You will still need to use my spy name at school.”

“That’s all right. I like Azrael too. I just… I missed _you_.”

Severus threaded his hand into Harry’s curls and held him tight. “I have missed you as well, but you are in need of sustenance, little one.”

“Y-yeah. I needed you more, to be honest.”

Severus brushed tears from Harry’s face. “I am here. I will be as much as I can do. I am sorry that it is not more.”

“Just so long as you come when you can.”

“I promise. But for now, let us find some food for you.” Severus snapped his fingers and called, “Dobby!” 

The little elf appeared with a bow. “How’s can I be helping Master Azrael and Great Master Harry Potter, sirs?”

Severus chuckled at the elf’s name for his friend. “Dobby, I need a meal for Harry. Are you able to provide him with food over the summer when he calls for you?”

Dobby frowned. “Yes, I can be bringing food for you, Great Master Harry Potter, sir, but why is you not making it yourself?”

“Uh… my relatives don’t give me access to the food, Dobby,” said Harry with a wince.

Dobby’s ears drooped. “They is starving you?”

“Y-yes.”

The elf wailed and buried his face in Harry’s knees. “Oh, Master Harry! I is bringing you food right now.” 

“Thank you, Dobby.”

The elf wailed and popped away, leaving Harry and Severus alone. 

“I will cast a plague upon your relatives as soon as I have the magic to summon one,” Severus murmured, head lolling on Harry’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, rest first. We can do presents later, if you want.”

“No, must… too important.” Severus jerked himself awake and tugged the small, glamoured parcel from his lapel pocket. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

Harry kissed Severus’ cheek and took the parcel. “Thank you.” He watched Severus out of the corner of his eye as he unwrapped his gift, his eyes dark with worry. “Ah….” Curious, he pulled out the silver and sapphire anklet Severus had purchased for him. “I’m going to be decked out in jewellery before long,” he said with a chuckle. “What is it?”

“It goes on your ankle.” Severus patted his lap, and Harry laid his bare foot on Severus’ legs. Severus latched the bracelet around his fair, slim ankle. “There.” He patted Harry’s calf, and the boy let his foot down again.

“It’s lovely, but is it just the bracelet this time?”

Severus closed his eyes and lowered his head. “No. It is… there is magic in it against portkeys. It requires a password to deactivate— _Salva_ —and will reactivate automatically after fifteen minutes or your next portkey trip, whichever occurs first. It will not simply leave you behind, either. If you do not deactivate your bracelet before you touch a portkey, it will stop the portkey altogether.” He cupped Harry’s face and said in a shaky breath, “You will never again be taken by a trick portkey, nor will you take anyone else with you. I am only sorry I did not think to craft it for you sooner.”

Harry wrapped Severus in a tight embrace, trembling against him, sending hot tears dripping down Severus’ wings. “Thank you,” he choked out. “Gods, thank you.”

Severus held Harry tight and blinked down tears of his own. “Does it help at all, little one?”

“Y-yeah. It’s brilliant.”

Severus kissed Harry’s curls. “I hope it heals you, at least a bit.”

“ _You_ heal me. Stay, please.”

“As you wish.”

* * *

Severus had set plagues of frogs, locusts, slugs, and snakes on the Dursleys for their cruelty, all within six hours of each other. As a result, the elder Dursleys had kicked Harry out of the house a couple days after his birthday after giving him ‘lunch’—a few scrawny carrots and a cheese sandwich. Harry didn’t care. He’d filled up on Weasley cherries and Hogwarts-issue chicken salad in the garden while his relatives weren’t looking. 

Severus had shifted into Xerxes and rode on Harry’s shoulder, guarding him as he walked to the nearby park. Harry flopped onto one of the swings with a groan.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to shift into Az for a moment or two?”

Xerxes huffed and pretended not to have heard.

“Yeah, I suppose it’s too dangerous.” Harry sighed and swung idly back and forth, dragging one toe in the dirt. “Is it just me, Xerxes, or has it been too quiet the past few days?”

Xerxes cocked his head, and Harry laughed.

“Well, perhaps not _quiet_ , per se, not with Petunia screeching her head off every two seconds thanks to your lovely handiwork.”

Xerxes fluffed his feathers and gave a proud caw.

“Yes, you know you did well.” Harry petted his chest and throat with gentle fingers, drawing a whirr of contentment from his friend. “I meant at the Ministry. Lately, they’ve sent out some new rubbish about me or Riddle every morning, but I’ve not seen anything in the Prophet for almost a week.” He kicked at the dirt and scowled. “Fudge is up to something—I can _feel_ it.”

Xerxes gave a caw of dismay.

“Reckon this would’ve been good to talk about _before_ Vernon threw us out on our ear, yeah?”

Xerxes bobbed his head and tugged Harry’s hair, his way of letting him know they would talk about it later. 

“Yeah.” Harry sighed and kicked off so the swing spun around slowly. “Xerxes? I’m… I’m really sorry. I tried so hard to get out of there before Pettigrew could catch me, but he still caught me with a cutting curse and… I’m sorry. I really wish you didn’t have to spy anymore.”

Xerxes nuzzled Harry’s cheek and gave a low chirr of worry. 

“I know, I know. It’s not really my fault. I just… I wish I’d been faster. I wish I’d been stronger. Cedric mightn’t have—” Harry jerked a hand across his eyes and choked down a sob. “S-should it hurt this much, Xerxes? I barely knew him, and yet I can hardly breathe for grief sometimes. And after the task, when Amos Diggory was crying… I don’t even know what happened. That’s how Moody got me. Well, Crouch. I was so… I don’t know. It hurt so much. And when I could breathe again, when I could think, I was in his office. Why does it hurt me so much, Xerxes? Death? Even the dragons. I don’t think it’s normal to hurt like this, is it?”

Xerxes cuddled against Harry’s neck and nudged his head under the boy’s chin. 

“Thanks.” 

Harry stroked his friend’s soft feathers, taking comfort in the feel of his small, warm body, in his presence, and watched as the sun crept ever closer to the horizon. A chilly breeze raised gooseflesh on his arms—should it be so cool in August? Harry shuddered and thought he might try going back home now Vernon had had time to cool off, but a sharp jeer from the street brought his attention around before he could escape.

“Oi, Freak! What’re you doing here?”

Dudley. Harry turned slowly and gave the spoiled pig his coldest glare. “Ah, hello, Duddykins. Did you run out of ten-year-olds to torture, then?”

“Shut it, Freak. What’ve you got on your shoulder anyway? What _is_ that?”

Harry stroked his friend’s throat. “ _His_ name is Xerxes, and he’s a crow. My familiar, actually. One of them anyway.”

Dudley flinched and looked all around. “Oi! You’re not to talk about that freaky stuff outside the house!”

Harry lazily stroked Xerxes’ chin. “I think he’s talking about magic, Xerxes, don’t you?”

Another blast of cool air made him shiver. Dudley looked around, confused, then sneered at his cousin. 

“You’re going to catch it. You’re not supposed to use the M word!”

“What? Muggles? Mandrakes? Oh, right. _Magic_.”

“Y-you’re going to get it! Dad will throw you out, and you can’t do anything about it without your M-Ministry coming for you.”

Harry gave him a wicked smile. “You’re right. If I cast a spell—with my wand—they’ll know. But I don’t need my wand for all my spells, now do I?”

Xerxes gave a startled caw and stared at Harry. 

“What? You know I don’t.”

Dudley covered his arse with his hands. “I-I’m telling Dad! I—”

A blast of freezing air took Harry’s breath away and froze it in a cloud when it came out again. “What the _hell_?”

Dudley whimpered. “What—what’re you _doing_? Stop it!”

Harry waved a hand at Dudley and took out his wand. “Shut it. I’m not doing this. It’s—”

Dark memories filtered in—screaming green light, Amos’ cries of _‘That’s my boy,’_ the thud of a body, the crush of tiny bodies under powerful feet, a strong arm reaching towards sharp fangs….

“ _Fuck_! It’s dementors!”

Harry raced to Dudley and took position in front of him. “Xerxes, just—shite.” The crow had already fainted. Harry breathed another curse and caught him to his chest. “Hold on. I’ve got you.” He grabbed his cousin’s hand. “Come on! We’ve got to _run_! Those things will suck out our bloody souls if we let them!”

Dudley gave a wailing cry and waddled after Harry as fast as his legs would carry him.

* * *

Arabella Figg took Harry to her house as soon as Dudley was home and Harry had received ‘official notice’ of his expulsion. 

“Rot and rubbish,” said Missus Figg. “You just sit tight, Harry. Albus will have this fixed in a mo.”

All this time, Missus Figg was a squib Dumbledore had set to guard Harry. Figured. 

Harry cradled a still-unconscious Xerxes to his chest and raced towards the old woman’s house. “Ma’am, right now, I’m more worried about Xerxes. Do you have some chocolate?”

Arabella frowned. “Of course, dearie, no self-respecting witch or squib would ever be caught without it, especially not in times like these, but I’m not sure you can feed chocolate to crows.”

“He’s not really a crow—he’s an Animagus—come on, we’ve got to hurry! And for Merlin’s sake, don’t tell anyone about him!”

Missus Figg paled and scurried to her house, ushering Harry inside. He didn’t much like Figg’s house, but he could bear the smell of cats and stale cabbage—it _always_ smelled of cats and cabbage there—if it saved Xerxes. Gods, they had to do something about his weakness to dementors. Harry had hoped loving him the past few years might have given him some little resistance, but no. It seemed Severus still carried his past too close to his chest. 

No longer. Now that Harry could Occlude, they were going to talk, so help him. Severus _had_ to let his stranglehold of the past go, and Harry knew of no way to do that other than talking it out. For Severus’ sake, Harry had no intention of letting him hide behind pain and his mental shields any longer.

Missus Figg led them to her kitchen and motioned Harry to one of the chairs. “I don’t know how you plan on restoring him, lad. There’s the restriction on underage magic to keep in mind, and this time, your life isn’t in imminent danger.”

Harry gave her a pained look. “Does it _matter_? They’ve expelled me, remember?”

“Hush.” Missus Figg held his shoulder. “You and I both know you had no choice but to use magic to save yourself, Harry. Albus will set them straight, but if you use your wand so quickly, it might not… he mightn’t be able to save you. Can it wait?”

“I’ve a better idea.” 

Harry held his hands over Xerxes’ still form and let love and life flow through his core, into the little crow under his hands. His palms glowed green—and from experience, he knew his eyes would be alight too—power passed from Harry to Xerxes, and after a moment, the crow gave a weak cry and shuddered.

Missus Figg put her hand to her mouth. “Harry….”

“Don’t worry,” Harry murmured, stroking Xerxes’ back gently. “The Ministry can’t track my wandless magic. They won’t have the slightest idea I just revived him.”

Both Figg and Xerxes whipped around, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Well, I don’t use it when I can avoid it,” Harry said with a shrug, “but especially with… my guardian being around a lot less often as of late, I’ve had little choice but to use a lot of wandless Confunding charms and shields. And to conjure water.”

Xerxes gave a little cry of dismay and buried his head under his wing. Harry cradled him in his lap and petted his head. 

“It’s not your fault, Xerxes. Ssh. But you need some chocolate. Missus Figg already knows you’re an Animagus—I didn’t have any choice but to tell her that much—so if you want to… change, it’d help me. I could restore you myself, but it’s probably best to limit my magic use to life-or-death emergencies until I’m positive the Ministry has its eyes turned elsewhere.”

Xerxes gave a soft caw of worry, but hopped into the chair beside Harry and shifted into his human form. Harry knew him as Severus, saw his face and his hair and his wings and knew the friend he had loved his entire life, but the halo around his skin let Harry know Severus had appeared as Azrael instead. Smart.

“Thank you, Azrael.” Harry brought the man into a tight hug and held him close. “Gods, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was terrified.”

“ _You_ were terrified for _me_? No. I… I failed you again. I couldn’t defend you. And it is my _job_ to keep you safe.”

Missus Figg called in a weak voice, “Harry, who exactly is this?”

“His name is Azrael.” Harry turned to give her a wan smile. “He’s been guarding me my entire life, so it’s okay. He’s part of the Order too.”

She blinked. “You know of the Order already?”

Harry snorted. “I’ve known of most of the story since I was twelve, and Az and the headmaster have been filling in bits and pieces since then, so yes, I’m pretty well-informed.” He took Azrael’s hand and held it against his chest. “About that chocolate, ma’am?”

Missus Figg jolted. “Right, right. Sorry, dear.” She rummaged in the cupboard beside her refrigerator and pulled out three bars of Cadbury's dark chocolate. “Sorry it’s not Honeydukes, but we squibs have limited access to the magical world.”

“It will do, madam,” said Azrael with a wan smile. “Thank you.” He nibbled on his, though his expression remained deeply troubled, and stood with a sigh when he and Harry had finished. “Come, Harry. As much as I would rather avoid it, I think we must meet with your _dear_ godfather. He is the only one who knows the true location of the Order’s safehouse, and as it is under _Fidelius_ , I cannot share the address with you nor take you to it until he tells you of its location.”

Harry grimaced. “We’d best get the headmaster in on that meeting too then.”

“Indeed.”

* * *

It took the better part of two hours to track down Albus, but once Severus found him, the man took them through the floo to his office, much to Severus’ relief. As much as he appreciated Arabella’s timely intervention and hospitality, _Merlin_ , the smell of her home would soon drive him mad. Cats were all well and good—in moderation. Arabella had far too many, especially for a half-canine yokai.

“Now then, my boys,” said Albus with a wave into his quarters, “it seems you have had quite the eventful night. Do tell.”

Severus listened to the early part of Harry’s story with half an ear. He had been there for most of it, after all, and he had since heard the rest, so Harry’s bold statement at Arabella’s held more interest for him now. How long had Harry been using wandless magic at the Dursleys’ with no consequences? The accidental magic of a child was one thing—children couldn’t help it—but _conscious_ magic? It should have alerted the Ministry. That blasted house elf’s hover charm certainly had done. 

Something strange was afoot here.

That memory of bloodlines, shadows, elements, and wings came back to him. Was unusual magic a part of those traits? Magic the Ministry couldn’t track, like his own?

Severus drew in a sharp breath. Like his _yokai_ magic? Was it possible Harry was a yokai?

No. Severus had never sensed the slightest hint of demonic presence in Harry, and no yokai that he knew of had such healing powers or elemental control, nor would most of their healing powers go undetected by the Ministry. Severus’ only did because he had angelic powers. 

Was Harry an angel then? Severus shook his head to himself. No. Harry would have shown his wings by now, before he even went to Hogwarts. 

Wings. Would Harry inherit them then? But what beings other than angels had wings? 

 _Wings, shadows, bloodlines, and elements._ As well as untraceable wandless magic and an unusual attachment to all forms of life, apparently. Perhaps this was simply another facet of Harry’s unique abilities— _the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches_ —but Severus couldn’t help wondering if Harry would soon inherit a race just as rare as Severus’ own.

Salazar would most definitely want to hear about this.

“Azrael?” Albus’ call brought Severus back to the present with a jolt. “Where have you been, my friend, to be so distracted now?”

Severus glanced at Harry. “I was considering Harry’s unique talents and the fact that he is able to cast wandless magic with or without the trace.”

Albus’ eyes widened. “I see. Well, that is certainly interesting.”

Harry looked between them with a bemused frown. “Why? It’s just because I didn’t use my wand, isn’t it?”

“No, child,” said the old man. “The trace is on _you_ , not your wand. That is why Dobby could cause you trouble in your second year—his use of wizarding spells in your presence when there were no other wizards nearby alerted the Ministry. The fact that you are able to use magic without repercussions implies that you are not using wizarding magic at all.”

Harry froze. “Not wizarding magic? Then what _am_ I using?”

“That, child,” said Albus wryly, “is the question of the day, isn’t it? I am afraid I do not know.” He met Severus’ eyes. “But I believe it safe to say that the two of us will not rest until we have answers.” Something in his expression went soft and sad. “And it may well be our best hope for salvation, in the end.” 

“Albus?”

The old man gave him a wan smile. “Ah, do forgive an old man’s wanderings. This war begins to wear on us all, I fear.” He turned away from Severus’ piercing gaze, keeping his secrets for now. Merlin, what was the old man hiding?

“Harry,” Albus said, “I have… delayed the Ministry’s decision as to your expulsion. They wish you to undergo a full criminal trial—pompous fools that they are—and that will come down against them hard in the end. Simply keep your faith and do not use magic again if you can at all help it, whether wandless or otherwise, until you are at Hogwarts once more. We will ensure that you are able to continue your education, regardless of Fudge’s relentless campaign to silence the truth.”

Harry wrapped his arms around himself. “Are you sure you can protect me this time, sir?”

“Absolutely. You were within your rights to defend yourself and your cousin against dementors. Do not fret, Harry. All will be well.”

As Severus watched the old man carefully avoid his eyes and pour himself a fresh cup of tea, he wondered how truthful Albus had been. 

“Now then,” Albus said with a hint of his usual joviality, “I think we must bring you to the Order’s safehouse, Harry. Are you prepared for a meeting with Sirius?”

“Long as he keeps his teeth to himself,” Harry said with a growl. “I don’t need a wand to kick his ar—er, his bum otherwise.”

Albus’ twinkle returned. “Indeed. Then let us retire to the floo, and we shall speak to your beloved godfather, Harry.”

“Beloved! More like the giant prat extraordinaire. He’s worse than Lupin, and that takes some doing.”

Severus chuckled to himself as Harry knelt before the fire beside Albus. “I am afraid we will be seeing quite a bit more of them than we should like this summer, Harry. They are hiding at the safehouse too.”

“Of _course_ they are. Can’t have one pleasant summer, can I?”

Severus sobered and dragged his hand through Harry’s messy curls, still a bit damp from his run-in with dementors and mad dash for safety. “One day, Harry. One day, when this is all behind us, I will make sure you have a lovely summer far away from fools and monsters. We shall travel together, perhaps, and see the world.”

Harry's smile lit his eyes from within. “Oh? That sounds brilliant, Az. Where would we go?”

Severus wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Well, as concerns my physical ancestry, I am half-Japanese. Would you like to tour Japan with me? I have always longed to see the land of my origins, and I believe it would prove an interesting destination for you as well. There is much of culture there that is far different from our own, and, judging by the photos my mother shared with me when I was young and those I have seen since, it is a beautiful country.”

Harry beamed. “That’s a fab idea, Az. Let’s do it.”

Severus squeezed his shoulders. “It is a promise then.”

“Yeah, wizards’ honour.”

Severus gave him a wry smile and wondered if either of them were truly wizards. 

“Well then,” said Albus without looking at Severus, “now that your plans are set, let us begin our meeting then, hmm?”

“If you say so,” Harry grumbled.

Albus tossed in a pinch of floo powder and called into the flames, “The Phoenix Nest, London, England. _Oblatus_.” 

The flames turned from red to green and showed the dilapidated living room of twelve Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley was bustling about, marching her children left and right and ordering them into cleaning this and that. Albus stuck his head into the fire, and then his aged backside blocked Severus’ view of the room. Severus focused his attention on Harry’s face instead.

“Hello, Molly,” Albus called. “Is Sirius about? I am afraid we have run into a spot of trouble on Privet Drive, and Harry will need to stay at the safehouse for now.”

Molly’s voice called back, “Oh my! Albus, is he all right?”

“Fine, fine. Well, perhaps a bit shaken up. I’ll let him tell you what happened in his own words, if you don’t mind. We do need the address, however; so might you call Sirius for me?”

The anger in her tone as she snapped out her shout to the Black lord left Severus more than a little amused. What had Black done to earn her ire so early in their stay? 

“Sirius Black! You are wanted at the floo!”

“All right,” Black shouted back from somewhere. Severus heard him grumbling as he came into the room. “Always nagging, that one. Just because a bloke wants a little _fun_.”

Ah. So Black had attempted to rekindle his Marauder days then. No wonder Molly was furious. Severus couldn’t wait to see Harry sink his claws into the idiot. 

“Albus? What’s going on?”

“Ah, thank you for your prompt reply, Sirius. I have Harry here with me, and he—”

“Harry?” Black’s voice snapped to attention. He barked out a laugh. “I knew he’d see reason eventually. Get tired of the old bat?”

Harry called to Albus, “Sir, pardon me, would you let me in the floo?”

Albus moved aside with a wry expression. “Do try not to _completely_ excoriate him, Harry.”

Harry chuckled darkly. “No promises.” 

He stuck his head in the flames, and Severus looked away that he might not find himself staring at his bum—too early for that. 

“As for your _lovely_ comments, Black, you utter piece of shite,” Harry said in a voice barely above a snarl, “of course I’m not tired of my best friend. I just happen to need the address to the safehouse as I’ve run into trouble at home. I’d have much preferred to stay there for the summer rather than see your stupid face, but that’s just the way my life goes. So?”

“Harry,” Black started, “listen, you can’t just—”

“The _address_ , Black. Now.”

“But—”

“He asked you for the address, Black,” Severus said in a lethal voice. “I would obey if I were you.”

Black snapped, “Albus, who is that? You’ve a stranger in the floo around me?”

“No one I do not trust with Harry’s life and yours,” said Albus with a deceptively mild smile. “Now, are you going to give Harry the address, or must I alter the _Fidelius_ to choose another secret keeper?”

The old man couldn’t _actually_ alter the _Fidelius_ , or at least Severus didn’t _think_ he could, but his threat worked magic on Black regardless. 

“All right, all right.” The idiot summoned a biro and parchment and passed the scrap through the flames to Harry. “Now that’s done, listen, Harry. You can’t just—”

“Have a nice day, Black.” Harry pulled out of the flames and dragged Albus back too, ending the call.

Severus couldn’t quite hold back a snort. “Well done, Harry.”

Harry grinned at him. “Thanks. Are you going to be there with me?”

“As Azrael, you mean? I believe I can manage that. As long as those anti-scent spells you gave me still work, there is no reason why any of them should discover the truth of my alias.”

“Lupin and Black will probably work it out eventually, Az, just by nature of the fact that you’re an adult and I love you above anyone else.” Harry frowned. “Maybe you should stay away. Just in case.”

Albus gave them an innocent smile. “Perhaps, but I might also simply add Azrael’s identity to the gag curse on Sirius and Remus and, thus, allow you the freedom to associate with each other safely, at least within the Order.”

“Well, that might keep me from losing the plot around the idiot twins at least,” said Harry with a chuckle. 

“I am not sure the same may be said for myself,” Severus muttered.

Harry laughed and buried his head in Severus’ chest. “Come, please. I need you.”

Severus sighed and kissed Harry’s hair. “As you wish.”

He could deny his mate nothing, even if Harry had no idea he was Severus’ mate at all.

* * *

Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place and stepped into a whirlwind of redheads. He came up laughing from a glomp by the twins, Ron, and Ginny all at once. 

“Air, guys, _air_.”

The Weasleys let him go, each with bright grins and smudges of dirt in various places.

“Harry, my lad,” said George with a wink, “splendid to see you.”

“Fantastic,” his twin agreed.

“Splendiferous.”

“Absolutely smashing.”

“All right, all right,” said Harry with a grin. “What do you two want?”

“Maybe you _might_ suggest that you’re tired and in need of a little kip,” Ron said with a grimace. “Might convince Mum to let up for five minutes.”

“Let up?”

“She’s had us cleaning this disaster of a place for the past week without a break,” Ginny said with a moan. “Save me, Harry.” She flopped dramatically against his chest, and he gently pushed her back with a chuckle. 

“All right, I get the point.” He motioned them aside. “But move back so I can clear the floo.”

“Ah, right.” Ron led Harry a few steps back, and Harry grimaced at the sight of Black and Lupin standing nearby with starry eyes and open arms. He ignored them.

Ginny frowned and whispered, “Is someone else coming, Harry?”

“Yes, Azrael.” Harry smirked at the twin looks of confusion and dismay on the mutts’ faces.

“Azrael is coming?” Ron bumped his shoulder. “Brilliant. Maybe he can keep mum out of our hair for five minutes.”

“I am not a ploy to keep Madam Weasley from putting you to work,” said Azrael from behind them, his expression stern all but for the twitching of his lips.

“Azrael, nice to see you again,” said Ron with a grin. “And I reckon you’ll be ready to put that mind of yours to use in distracting her before ten minutes is up anyway, so I’m not worried.”

Azrael snorted. “You are all too familiar with me as of late, Ronald Weasley.”

“Well, yeah. It’s what friends do, innit?”

Azrael froze, his posture uncertain and his eyes wide with shock. “I… friends?”

Ron grimaced. “Oh. Maybe it’s too awkward. All right.” He turned, but the hurt in his eyes made Harry intervene. 

“Ron, he’s not rejecting you,” Harry whispered to his friend. “He’s shocked. Remember what happened with Hermione and Xerxes? Before me, he was alone all his life.”

“Oh.” Ron gave Azrael a tentative smile. “Well, I meant it, Azrael, if that’s all right with you.”

Azrael swallowed hard and gave a curt nod. “I… I suppose it would be prudent of me to accept considering my relationship with Harry.”

Black crossed the room in two strides and jabbed his wand in Azrael’s neck. “And what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? He’s _sixteen_ , you wanker! Keep your bloody hands off—”

Harry kicked Black’s legs from under him, jerked him to the floor by his hair, stepped on his throat, and disarmed him in one fluid attack. 

“Merlin,” the twins and Ginny breathed at once.

“He meant our _friendship_ , you bloody moron,” Harry snarled. “And if you _ever_ threaten him in such a way again, I’ll detach your bollocks—the _Muggle_ way—and feed them to you piece by fucking piece!”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Ginny, the twins, and Ron repeated.

“A-all right, Harry,” Black choked out, hands held up in surrender. “Just so long as he’s not taking advantage—”

“Shut it. You don’t decide that. You have _zero_ say over my life, do you understand? Just stay the hell away from me, and stay the hell away from Azrael.”

Fred muttered to Ron, “Uh, mate, is there a _reason_ —”

George continued, “—Why Harry looks ready to choke Sirius—”

“—On his own entrails?”

“Other than the fact that he’s an utter wanker and a bastard to both Harry and Azrael, you mean?” Ron shrugged. “Just doing the world a favour, I suppose.”

“Oi,” Black protested, but Harry had had enough of his bullshite. He stepped away with a dark look and leaned against Azrael’s shoulder.

“Az, let’s go before this idiot starts up again. I really _am_ tired anyway, and we need to tell the others what happened. Mum will no doubt be worried.” Harry frowned. “Actually, where _is_ she? I expected her to be here to meet me, too.”

Ron shook his head. “Ginny found some cursed hair clip upstairs and Mum is dealing with it.”

“A cursed _hair clip_?”

“Mate, _everything_ in this disaster is cursed.”

“Between that and the doxies,” Ginny agreed, “it’s been an utter nightmare trying to set this place to rights.”

“Sounds pleasant,” said Harry with a grimace. “Anyway, come on. I’m not here for a lark.”

“Right.” Ron motioned them on. “Mum will be in the kitchen once she’s finished with the mess upstairs.”

“Let’s go then.”

Lupin called, “Harry, wait. Don’t you want to—I mean—”

“No, Lupin,” Harry shot back, “I don’t want anything to do with you or your idiocy, nor Black’s. Leave us the hell alone, both of you.” He took Azrael’s hand lightly and led the nervous man away from the fire and the two canine idiots who had made his life such hell.


	16. Fools at Large

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning:** this chapter discusses memories of rape and the suicide of a child. Don't read Sev's second memory session (about Adam) if you'd rather skip it. Also a hypothetical discussion of M-preg. Non-human variety. I don't do butt babies! 😂

#  **Chapter 16**

##  _Fools at Large_

###  _2 AUGUST, 1996_

Molly had sent Harry straight to bed after the story of his attack and escape. She said she would let him know if the headmaster came by, but, for the moment, he needed to rest and recover his magic. Harry lay awake, hoping the occasional creak and click he kept hearing weren’t doxies in the drapes, until Ron came to visit him after Molly finally let them go for the evening.

“Harry, mate?” Ron’s voice was soft and uncertain. “Are you awake?”

He sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m up. Come in.”

“Er, before we do, are you dressed? I’ve Ginny, the twins, and Bill with me.”

Harry draped the duvet over his sleep shorts. “Close enough. Come on.”

“Right.”

Ron opened the door and walked in before his siblings. Bill conjured seats for them in a half-circle around Harry’s bed, and the Weasleys settled in, their faces all bemused and worried save Ron’s.

“Nice to see you, little brother,” said Bill with a smile. “After what happened—well, it was a damn close call. I’m glad you’re all right.”

Harry nodded and wrapped his arms around his chest. “What in Merlin’s name were they _doing_ there? Dementors should never have been near Little Whinging, and I thought the Order was supposed to be guarding me regardless. Az guards me over Privet Drive, but he’s right beside me all the time. He wouldn’t have been able to sense the dementors until they were on top of us.”

“Er,” said Bill with a frown, “well, Dung was supposed to be guarding you, but he said something about some cauldrons or some such rot. Probably stolen, of course.”

“Yeah,” Fred said, “but I’m confused, Harry. If Azrael was there—”

“—Why didn’t he—”

“—Cast the Patronus, mate?”

“It’d have saved you a lot of—”

“—Unnecessary Ministry rubbish.”

Harry shook his head sadly. “If he had been able to, he would have done in a heartbeat, but Az isn’t good with dementors. He fainted almost as soon as they came, poor man. Well, he was in Animagus form at the time, so it was easy to carry him, but he didn’t last long. He’s miserable about it, too. He hates that his past is putting me at such risk.”

“His past?” Ginny gave him a worried look. “Harry, is he… are you sure he’s safe?”

“Absolutely. Azrael has guarded me and kept me safe to the best of his ability since before I was even born.”

“Really?” Bill cocked his head. “Strange I’ve never seen him before today.”

Harry sighed and hugged his knees, tugging the blanket with him. “There’s… a story behind that, too, and I’ll tell you lot what I can because I trust you, but you can’t say a word of it to anyone or let on that you know. If the wrong person learned the truth, Az would be killed, and most likely me, too, if the grief didn’t kill me first.”

“Oh.” Bill gave Harry a sad smile. “You really love him, huh?”

“He’s been there for me my entire life. Yeah. I couldn’t do without him, so please, please help me keep him safe.”

Bill and the others nodded.

“Thank you.” Harry took a deep breath and Occluded fiercely. “There’s a reason why you’ve never seen Az before—it’s an alias. He’s under glamours and going by a false name while he’s around the Order or at Hogwarts with me. He’s a regular Order member, one you already know, but he can’t safely reveal his true identity, so you’ve got to keep that quiet.”

“One who can’t….” Bill’s eyes went wide. “No. _Really_?”

Harry winced. “Bill, don’t say anything. Please.”

“A-all right, but you’re sure about this, Harry? He’s really been… on your side this whole time?”

“He’s been helping all of us,” Ron said with a nod. “He has to wear his glamours at school and around Harry—”

“Not so much any longer,” said Harry with a shrug. “I finally learned to Occlude. He’ll still be in glamours at school and around the Order, but it’s not a necessity if we’re alone with those who already know any longer.”

Ron nodded and gave him a bright grin. “Good on you, mate. Knew you could do it.” He frowned. “And I reckon Hermione and I had best work hard on learning, too, for his sake. And yours, come to think of it.”

“Yeah. Probably best. I’ll help, and so will Az.”

“We’ll start for me tomorrow then, once Mum lets up on her rampage.”

“Sounds good.”

Ron nodded and turned to his eldest brother with a sigh. “Mate, you can trust Azrael. He’s done his best to keep Harry safe, and us, too. He really doesn’t do well with dementors—honestly, his past is just too painful—but he’s protected us from everything he can do without a thought to his own life and given the lot of us guidance since third year, when we worked out his identity despite the secrets and such. Secrets just meant to keep himself and Harry safe, nothing bad. He really is a good man. I swear you can trust him.”

Bill looked at his brother wryly. “Well, if _you’re_ saying that, I reckon I’ve got to listen to it.” He chuckled softly at Ron’s irritated scowl, but sobered quickly. “Thank you, Ron. I feel better knowing that you trust him, too.”

“Yeah. Hermione does, too. We’re his friends, though not the same as Harry. They’re really close—have been since his first year, when Harry found him out in spite of everything. Since the first day of first year, really.”

“Have they?” Bill gave a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good to know. We all worried about it—everything Harry’s been through. I’m glad to know Harry was aware of the truth all this time.”

“Yeah.” Harry let down his knees. “So you won’t say anything? Not even to Mum or Dad?”

“We promise,” said the Weasleys in unison.

“You’re one of us now, mate,” said Fred with a wink.

“And that means we stick together,” George finished.

“It’s odd seeing you two being somewhat serious,” said Harry with a snort.

George snickered. “Well, we’re practising looking mature and put together—”

“—So Mum will let us into the Order soon.”

“We’re of age come October—”

“—So there’s really no reason to keep—”

“— _Molly_ coddling us.”

“Mumcoddling, more like.”

Harry chuckled. “I’m pretty sure that word was invented just for her. She does love us all to death, doesn’t she?”

“Understatement,” said Ron with a snort.

“It’s all right,” Harry said, staring at his knees. “I like it, honestly. It’s nice to feel I’ve a mum who loves me, after everything.”

“Your true mum loved you, too, mate,” said Bill with a frown.

“Yeah, maybe she did,” Harry said, a spark of anger burning in his gut, “but she had secrets of her own. And they hurt Azrael. Badly.”

“Did they?” Bill frowned. “Can you tell us what happened?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell, and I don’t know the details at any rate. Az has never been able to talk about it beyond a few hints here and there. I’m going to try to get him to open up over the summer and such in hopes it might help him recover—and maybe help him face dementors without fainting—but he’s not told me the whole story yet.”

“Ah. Well, talking about it should help. It’s only those past events we’ve held in, those we’ve never spoken of or let go of, that haunt us enough to cause trouble with dementors. Talking about his past should help him in that capacity.”

Bill leaned on his knees and fixed Harry with a searching look. “But, to be honest, we didn’t come here to talk about Azrael. We came up here to ask what in Merlin’s name is going on between you, Lupin, and Black. We expected you to be happy to see them, and you clearly hate them. Why? They were your parents’ best friends, you know.”

Harry scowled. “No, Mum was _Az’s_ best friend, and she tore him to bits. She betrayed him. And the rest of their lot—Dad, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew—were horrid to him. They _hurt_ him. George, Fred, you’ve seen those pranks?”

George shuddered. “Mate, those aren’t pranks.”

“They’re torture devices,” said Fred with a grimace.

“There are a few that are funny.”

“Or useful.”

“We got our ears from one of their pranks, you know—”

“—But most of them are just bloody cruel.”

“Yeah.” Harry growled under his breath and hugged his knees. “I got that box from Black. He sent it to me for my fifteenth birthday along with a stack of photos of their victims. And most of them were of Azrael as a teen. They haunted him. They hurt him so badly, some of the memories that make him faint around dementors—at least two that I know of—are of their tricks and cruelty.”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Bill said, aghast. “How… how bad is it, Harry?”

“Bad. Azrael has seen the worst of the world, and he still referred to at least one of their ‘pranks’ as torture.”

“Shite. Knowing that man… he doesn’t use that word lightly.”

“No.” Harry hugged his knees, his heart aching for his friend’s pain. “It’s honestly a miracle Az survived seventh year at all, no thanks to their bullshite. Black sent him after Lupin on the full moon—and Azrael had no idea he was a werewolf. Dad saved him, but then he mocked Azrael and taunted him about it until the day he left school.”

“Oh,” Ginny said, her eyes wide with horror. “Oh, Harry. Why did no one ever tell us this? Why do they say your parents are heroes if they…?”

Harry shrugged. “I reckon they want to focus on the good for my sake, you know? They don’t want me to know they were bastards, but I’ve always been pretty good at getting my hands on the truth whether the Order wants me to have it or not. And the truth is that my parents were—well, all five of them—were bloody _cruel_ to Az, and because of that, I’ll never be able to trust them at all.”

“Merlin.” Bill gave him a searching look. “Harry, you’re sure of this?”

“Absolutely. I’ve seen evidence of it myself. And Azrael is a bit afraid of them, to be honest. He doesn’t often show it, and he’s good at hiding it even when he does, but I know him too well not to see it. I had to fashion him an anti-werewolf bracelet, it was so bad.”

“Anti-werewolf?” Bill rubbed his chin in thought. “Mate, could you make something of the like for all of us? Everyone in the Order? It’d be a relief to be protected from Greyback and his ilk. And Lupin, too, apparently.”

“I’ll have to ask Dumbledore about it—he helped me make Azrael’s bracelet—but I reckon he’d be happy to make one like Azrael’s for all of us. It’s already saved my life, his, and Ron and Hermione’s once.”

“From Lupin,” Ron added with a grim look. “He didn’t take his potion on purpose once, and nearly killed the lot of us as a result.”

Bill blanched. “Lupin did that?”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a snarl, “and he turned his wand on me that night in third year. To attack me for my ‘cheek’ and such, because I called him on being a coward and an arsehole. He’s not to be trusted, Bill. And Black is just as bad.”

“Black’s the reason I’ve a limp,” said Ron, staring at his knees. “The reason I mightn’t ever be an auror now.”

Harry shook his head wryly. “Ron, by the time Az is done training us, the aurors will be _begging_ to take us in, I reckon.” He patted his friend’s shoulder in solidarity. “It’s going to be all right, you hear? We won’t let Black ruin your future. Nor any of ours.”

Ron nodded and squared his shoulders. “Right. Damn right. We won’t let him. I’ll just have to train extra hard to overcome it.”

“There you are.” Harry squeezed Ron’s hand. “I’ll talk to Az about it. He might know a cure or a way to help you train your leg. Worth a shot, anyway.”

“Thanks, Harry, but I reckon I’ll ask him myself. It’s my place, you know, and I’d say it would make him feel more… accepted. I’ve never seen him look more lost than when Hermione tried to pet him in Animagus form or I offered him my friendship.”

Harry nodded, his expression sad. “He’s not used to being accepted, and it’s mostly thanks to his family and mine that he’s grown up never knowing love at all, until me.”

Ginny looked at him askance. “You _love_ him, Harry?”

He sighed and gave her a sad smile. “Ginny, Azrael is an adult. If I tried to touch him in that way, he’d go to Azkaban. I can’t do that to him, and Az would never allow it as long as I’m underage even if I wanted… er… more.” He looked away, lest they learn he was interested in the idea, at least when it was safe.

“Hmm.” Bill gave him a stern look. “Make sure you remember that, Harry.”

So Bill knew, too. Damn. He was as astute as Hermione.

“Er… yeah. I’d never hurt him, Bill. And he’d never hurt me.”

“Just so.” Bill stood and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “I think you’d best talk to… certain people, mate. So we don’t have any mixed messages going about.”

Ginny. Harry nodded and bit back a groan. Merlin, he didn’t look forward to _that_ mess.

“Yeah, I promise. Soon as we have a moment.”

“Good.” Bill motioned the others up. “Come on, you lot. Let’s let him rest. He’s had a rough day, and after this, I think I’d half like to check on Azrael and make sure he’s all right.”

Harry said in a soft voice, “Um… send him up when you’re done?”

Bill nodded and guided his siblings from the room.

* * *

Azrael knocked near midnight, tentative and quiet. “Harry? Are you still awake, little one? The others are finally asleep.”

“Yeah, I’m up, Az. Been waiting for you, to be honest.”

Azrael came inside and shut the door behind him. Several locking and silencing charms assured them some degree of privacy, and the yokai sat on the bed beside Harry, legs folded underneath him and a warm wing draped over Harry’s belly.

“It has been an excruciating evening,” he said with a groan. “Black and Lupin followed me about all night, and if not for Molly’s fiercest lecture—she actually brought dust down from the ceiling—I fear they might have attempted to attack me.”

“Those fuckers,” Harry spat. “I swear, I’m going to bloody murder them before we’re done here.”

Azrael snorted. “Do try to keep the violence to a minimum, child.” He sighed and rested his head in his hands. “It is… torture being here with them again. I did not enjoy my Hogwarts days, and I am enjoying this reprise even less.”

Harry took Azrael’s hand and pulled him into a hug. “Hey, it’s all right. You won’t be alone this time, okay? And if they really do drive you mad, then feel free to get out of here. Do what you need to do to stay sane, all right? I’ll be okay. Much rather you be safe than otherwise.”

Azrael buried his face in Harry’s shoulder. “This does help.”

Harry squeezed his ribs and held him close. “Then I’ll be here to hug you whenever you need one, okay?”

“We must take care around Black. He has strange ideas in his head, and it will not go well for us if his poison spreads to the others.”

“To hell if I let that happen. I’m going to protect you, okay? It’s all right.”

Azrael sighed and leaned back. “I think I must stay as Xerxes at night, child. It is far safer.”

“Whatever you need to do. As long as you’re near me, I don’t care how you do it. Though I do miss your real voice.”

Severus dropped his Azrael disguise and murmured into Harry’s hair, “I miss it as well, being who I truly am.”

“Yeah.” Harry stroked Severus’ wings and sighed. “Sev, we need to talk, I think. About your problems with the dementors.”

Severus shuddered. “I am so sorry. I do not intend to—I know I am failing you.”

Harry held him tighter. “Ssh. I’m not blaming you. I was just thinking that it’s your past causing you to be so miserable when they come. And maybe if we talk some of it out, well, you might be better able to handle it. Do you think you could tell me, Sev? All the secrets you’re afraid to talk to me about?”

Severus gave a low sound of dismay. “Harry… I was a Death Eater once. A true Death Eater. I fear, if you hear _those_ stories, you will hate me.”

“Nothing can make me hate you, Sev. I know you’ve killed before. I know you’ve done bad things. I also know you regret it with the whole of your being. It’s okay. Well, not okay, but I forgave you a long, long time ago.”

“How can you forgive me when you know nothing of what I have done?”

Harry cupped Severus’ face and rubbed away tears. “Then tell me, Sev. Tell me what you did, what you’re afraid to speak of. Tell me everything about your past. And when you see that I still love you just the same, maybe you’ll be able to stand firm the next time dementors come. At the very least, it might help you heal. Will you trust me, Severus? Will you trust me to love you, even knowing the parts of you that you’ve hidden from me for so long?”

For a long moment, there was no sound in the room besides that strange clicking and the harsh sound of Severus’ ragged breathing. Then….

“Y-yes.”

Harry kissed Severus’ forehead and held him close. “Start at the beginning. I’m listening, Sev. And nothing will change. I promise you that.”

“V-very well.”

* * *

That night, Severus began to open up to Harry about his past. They hadn’t much time as they could only speak in the dark of night after the others had gone to bed, but Harry held him and listened while he discussed his early childhood.

It had been fine for a few years, he supposed. Severus’ family had always been poor, but until the boy’s yokai traits had appeared at nine years of age, his father hadn’t been abusive. Then, once his ultra-religious father knew he had fathered a half-yokai and married a full tengu, he had turned spiteful and cruel. And as soon as the man had become abusive, his mother had left Severus to grow up in that hell. Severus explained that she hadn’t the same kind of morality or attachment that human mothers might, but even so, Harry still wanted to strangle her for leaving her son to struggle on in that mess.

Severus hadn’t been able to cope with much beyond that, so the man had buried a few silent tears in Harry’s hair and said they would continue the next evening. It was already past one in the morning regardless.

“Okay, Severus. We can stop here for now.” Harry kissed the yokai’s forehead and held him tight. “It’s all right now. You’re safe, you’re loved, and nothing between us has changed.”

“You’ve not heard the dark parts yet.”

“It won’t change then either.” Harry brushed tears from Severus’ face and stroked his hair and shoulders until his shaking ceased. “There you are, Sev. Feeling a little better?”

“Yes.” Severus leaned back with a sigh. “You should go to bed, little one.”

“Okay, but… will you stay, at least for tonight? I’m a little nervous to sleep here around the mutts alone. They’re so obsessed. I’m half-afraid they’ll try something while I’m asleep.”

Severus growled under his breath. “Over my dead body.” He pressed a light kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Goodnight, Harry. I will stay to protect you as often as I can, but please understand I… I cannot sleep so closely. Especially not with Black and Lupin hovering nearby. I will conjure a perch for myself as Xerxes and sleep near your bed, but I cannot share it. Not here.”

Harry tucked a strand of loose hair behind his shoulder—he couldn’t very well tuck it behind Severus’ ears as he had none other than the canine ones perched atop his head. “Whatever you need to do. Just stay safe.”

“Yes. The same for you.”

“Goodnight, Sev.”

“Goodnight.”

Severus changed into his Animagus form and settled on a conjured wooden perch with two sides so Hedwig could join him on it if she chose. Harry stared at the ceiling and wondered if their talks would truly help Severus recover. Merlin, he hoped so.

Sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

Harry hadn’t realised until the next morning that Hermione wasn’t at Grimmauld with the others. He frowned at the thought. Hadn’t her last letter said she would be back in England in early August? Had something happened to her?

After Molly set him to cleaning the china cabinet with a box full of supplies and a stern warning not to touch anything that left an aura of magic on his skin or looked suspicious, he called his friend over and murmured to him between scrubbing plates.

“Ron, where’s ‘Mione? Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

Ron shrugged. “She said her parents really liked Japan and they’ve decided to stay there an extra couple of weeks or so.”

Harry froze. “Japan? She’s in _Japan_?”

“Yeah, didn’t she say?”

“I reckon she couldn’t do—not to me. It’s pretty dangerous to send me specifics, mate. Too many eyes on my post.”

“True.” Ron gave him a curious look. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, then?”

“It’s not that. I’m just interested in the culture, I guess. Azrael is half-Japanese.”

“Really?” Ron rubbed his chin. “Hmm, yeah, I can see it. He’s got the hair and the eyes all right. Not so much the nose, though.”

Harry chuckled wryly. His nose was absolutely Japanese as he’d inherited it from his mother. Of course, Ron never saw his true nose.

“I reckon that part’s all English, mate.”

“Boys,” came Molly’s stern voice, “you’re supposed to be _cleaning_ , not chatting.”

Ron gave her a disgusted glare. “She’s just trying to keep us apart, you know. Keep us from planning things.”

Harry whispered, “Well, we can let her think it worked for a while, mate. Won’t hurt anything to wait a bit to discuss the war. We can always plan at school, after all. And Az keeps us informed anyway.”

“True.”

With a shrug, Ron returned to his bookshelf, but Harry could barely focus on his work. Hermione was in Japan! He could send her a bank note and a request to find that book, and maybe he would have some much-longed-for answers about Severus at last.

In his distraction, he picked up an old locket with the idea of cleaning it and setting it aside, but the coldness of it drew Harry from his thoughts. Should a locket feel frozen inside a warm house in the middle of summer? He tried to pry it open, but it wouldn’t give, and at a sense of darkness and evil over the object, he reckoned he’d best not try harder. He set it down with a scowl and stared at the thing.

A giant scripted ‘S’ branded the front as well as a snake. Slytherin? Probably something based on it at any rate. Slytherin’s portrait was actually kind, if he _did_ have a rather devious sense of humour. He wasn’t anti-Muggleborn either. It bothered the founder, what his former house had become. He had spent hours telling Harry—in Parseltongue, of course—that they were once prided as the inventors and leaders of the magical world, not corrupt politicians and fascists.

Of course, there had been wars in Slytherin’s time, and so he had advised taking precautions against the parents of Muggleborn students that the other founders hadn’t liked, but Harry hadn’t thought them cruel. Only cautious, and with reason, given that Muggles had a tendency to murder any magicals they found at the time. When Slytherin’s own wife had died at the hands of religious zealots who had tracked her through his Muggleborn students and his co-founders still hadn’t considered implementing some form of cautionary measure, Slytherin had left the school to start over somewhere new. He never would tell Harry where.

Slytherin would be disgusted at the locket’s perversion of his core values, Harry was certain.

With a shake of his head, he stayed well-away from the suspicious trinket and carried on cleaning. The sooner he finished his work, the sooner he could send a letter with Hedwig. Thank Merlin Azrael was gone until dinnertime. Harry didn’t want to get his friend’s hopes up just in case Hermione couldn’t find anything.

He raced up to his room after lunch and whistled out the window for his familiar. She landed on the sill and hopped onto his bed, a curious look on her face. Harry greeted her with a pat and a rasher saved from the lunch table.

“Hello, girl. I have a question for you. Can you manage a trip to Japan?”

Hedwig let out a low whoo of surprise, cocked her head, and nodded.

“How many days do you think?”

Hedwig shrugged her wings and hooted about five times.

“Five days, give or take a day or two?”

She bobbed her head but looked uncertain about it.

“That’s all right, girl. If it takes longer, just make sure you’re careful on the way, okay? Stay out of sight if you can.”

She bobbed her head again, and Harry went to fashion his letter.

 

>  
> 
> _Hermione,_
> 
> _How is Japan? Ron told me about your trip. I’m so jealous. Azrael is half-Japanese, and he said we’d go there together after the war. I can’t wait, but for now, I’m stuck in the Order house with Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber. At least Az visits as much as he can and Mum is helping keep the twin mutts busy so they don’t bother me. She has them cleaning the cellar today. Great, huh?_
> 
> _Gods, this house is creepy. Can’t wait to go back to Hogwarts. And not just because Mum has us all working like slaves. I saw a locket earlier that I thought would swallow me whole with its dark aura alone, and when I came here the other night, a hair clip—a_ hair clip _, of all things—had attacked Ginny! It’s madness. Why Tweedle Dumber ever thought I’d be interested in living here, with_ him _, is utterly beyond me._
> 
> _Anyway, while you’re in Japan, can you do me a favour? There’s a book Az and I want to read, but we can’t get our hands on it because of their trade laws. We thought it might help with the war, you know? Best to be prepared for anything._
> 
> _Anyway, the book is called_ Demons and Spirits of the East _by Saito Tamaki. It’s really rare, so it has a hefty price tag, but Az has already put the money forwards on it in case I could find it sooner than he did. He thought my fame might go further in that capacity._
> 
> _Either way, the money’s in my account at Gringotts, and I’ve sent you a bank note and permission along with my letter so you can take it out, and a list of places Mister Blott said they had a copy of the book earlier in the year. The list is glamoured—the password is the name of the flower Snape quizzed me about on our first day of classes. The lily. It’s the main ingredient of Azrael’s Dreamless Sleep recipe if you can’t remember._
> 
> _It’s okay if you don’t have time or can’t find it, but I’d appreciate it if you can look for me. I doubt I’ll be able to make a trip to Japan anytime soon._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Harry_
> 
>  

He checked his letter twice and nodded to himself. It didn’t sound too desperate or suspicious, he thought. Asking Hermione for help with this was a risk regardless, but he doubted she would gather the truth from what little information he gave her in the letter.

For a moment, he hesitated. Maybe it was too risky. But then, they might find more information than just claw-sheathing spells in that book. They might also find ways to shield Severus’ aura from the Ministry, and that was definitely worth the risk.

With a little prayer that he was doing the right thing, Harry attached the letter, list, and bank note to Hedwig’s leg and watched her soar away.

“Good luck, girl. Be careful.”

He turned from the window and settled in for the kip he’d promised to take after lunch. Merlin knew Molly would check on him in a few moments, just to make sure he wasn’t ‘up to something.’ Harry had no idea what on earth she thought he might be planning—did she think he _wanted_ Riddle and his minions to attack every year?—but she really had gotten it into her head that they were too young and needed supervision every free moment.

Harry let her. Besides the fact that it felt nice to have someone other than Severus care for his well-being, letting her hold on to the belief of his innocence a little longer wouldn’t hurt anything. Severus told him everything he needed to know about the war anyway.

With that thought in mind, Harry tugged the covers over his shoulders and let himself drift.

* * *

That first long talk with Harry had begun a nightly ritual, one Severus found healing in spite of his misgivings and fears. Every time he mentioned some other dark secret of his past and Harry didn’t turn him away, the bleeding inside him slowed a little more. Perhaps Harry was right and this little ritual _would_ give him the strength to face dementors one day. At the very least, he was sure it would make him a happier person.

That night, Severus came back to Grimmauld Place after brewing another altered potion for Riddle. He had sent Kingsley a Patronus warning him about Voldemort’s intended victims the moment he was safely ensconced within its walls, and now that he’d had a shower and a few moments to rest his eyes, he felt refreshed enough to face the family for dinner, though he had arrived a bit late.

Harry greeted him with a hug and a smile as soon as he walked in. “Azrael, I’m glad you’re back all right. Here, sit down and have a bite. You look knackered.”

Severus—Azrael, rather—brushed his hand through Harry’s curls in greeting and gave him the same quiet smile he showed in public—wary and untrusting of others, but always warm for Harry. “Thank you, I am rather tired.”

Harry gave him a nod indicating his understanding of what he hadn’t said and guided Azrael to an empty seat between Harry and Ron—one he wagered the boys had fought hard to reserve for him. Between Ginevra’s interest in Harry and the idiot twins’ bumbling, Azrael had not expected to find such a comfortable seating arrangement awaiting him. He gave Harry a shy smile and folded himself into his seat with a sigh of relief. Merlin, it had been a hard day.

Molly prepared a plate of spaghetti marinara for him, though her smile was uncertain at best, and Harry fixed a salad for him, made to Azrael’s specifications without the need to announce that raw onions made him ill or that he didn’t care for cucumbers. He gave his friend another warm smile and took both plates, setting in with a relish.

“This is delicious, Madam Weasley,” Azrael said after a quiet moment where no one seemed quite sure what to say. “Thank you.”

Her smile this time held a little more welcome for him. “You’ll have to thank Harry. This is his recipe.”

Harry beamed, and Azrael pretended to be surprised.

“Merlin, Harry, you made this? I am quite impressed.”

Harry’s pale blush added to the impression that Azrael hadn’t complimented his cooking before.

“Thanks, Az. Glad you like it. I thought you’d want something nice and warm after a hard day at work.”

“Yes, at work,” Lupin said with a cold look. “And what, precisely, is it that you do for the Order, Azrael?”

Harry turned an unimpressed look on the werewolf. “Jealous much, Lupin?”

Lupin scowled. “Simply curious.”

“Then ask the headmaster. As far as I’m concerned, so long as Professor Dumbledore approves of him, then what Azrael might or might not do for the Order is none of your business.”

“Harry,” Molly chided, “be respectful.”

Harry turned a bemused look on her. “Mum, why? Lupin endangered my life, Professor Snape’s life, Ron and Hermione’s life, and the lives of everyone at Hogwarts over and over again last year for nothing but sheer cowardice. He threatened Professor Snape and treated him like rubbish. He even turned his wand on _me_ when I called him on it—a third year. Tell me, Mum, why should I treat an adult who behaves so terribly with any semblance of respect?”

Molly’s eyes fixed like laser beams on Lupin. “Is that _so_?”

Lupin sank into his seat, apparently trying to blend with the wood. “I-I mean, it’s all a matter of perspective, and—”

“Perspective?” Harry snorted. “Well, let’s just discuss the facts and let the others draw their own _perspective_ from there. First off, you spent an entire term putting me in detention over and over again for no good reason, only to torment me with your sob stories when I’d made it perfectly clear at the start of the year that I had zero interest in establishing any kind of rapport with you. You drove me mad to the point that Dumbledore had to intervene and forbid you from placing me in detention with yourself ever again. There’s a fact.

“And here’s another fact: you knew, the whole time we were all trying to find Black and Pettigrew, that they were Animagi and kept it secret. And one more: when Professor Snape confronted you about his name on the map, you lied about the map and your own past, then again to Dumbledore when he asked later. Another fact: you _knowingly_ passed over your Wolfsbane on the night of the full moon to follow me and Hermione while we tried to rescue Ron from Pettigrew and Black—an incident you might have prevented had you ever found half the courage in an eggcup to admit he was a ruddy Animagus in the first place!”

Lupin coughed and cleared his throat. “Now, Harry—”

“Fact,” Harry went on without acknowledging the interruption, “because of your former negligence of your potion, you transformed outside the willow near three students and a professor, and if not for Black’s grim form, you would have killed us all! And one more fact, you then tried to ruddy blame it on Professor Snape and said he hadn’t brought you the potion when it had been there the whole time, knocking against your office door, and Professor Snape _hates_ werewolves, and for good reason, too.” Harry scowled. “Well? How’s _that_ for perspective?”

Lupin tugged at his collar. “Er, well, I….”

“I see.” Molly’s eyes had turned to stone. “All this is true, then?”

“Every word,” said Ron with a vicious grin.

Molly’s eyes speared Lupin to his seat. “Hmm. And yet, you neglected to inform me of this, Remus? That you did not simply _miss_ your wolfsbane that night and that we have _you_ to blame for causing my son a permanent limp?”

“Oh no,” said Harry cheerfully. “That was Black. He was more interested in killing Pettigrew than keeping Ron safe. Or me. Or Hermione and Professor Snape. Or Xerxes. He’s just as bad as Lupin.”

Black’s pitiful yelp of “ _Harry_ ” made the boy grin.

"Oh, we knew that," Arthur said, eyes frigid. "Albus made sure to inform us of the events of that night; however, we did _not_ know that Remus bypassed his potion and endangered us all willingly, nor that he made your life such a misery at school." Lupin slouched in his seat, face ashen. Arthur's eyes fixed on Black. "Nor did we know this fool had endangered Azrael or Xerxes as well."

"Oh, it's not just Xerxes and Azrael," said a grinning Ron. "He's endangered Harry's life since, too, as well as mine, Hermione's, several innocent bystanders on Platform 9 ¾… the list goes on and on."

"Does it?" Molly pointed her wand at the mutts, and if Harry looked, he swore he saw steam pouring from her ears. "Well, we didn't know that either, but we're going to have a little _chat_ about it now, aren't we, gentlemen?"

Lupin gulped. Black made as if to run only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Arthur's _Impedimenta_.

"Oh, well done, Dad," Ron said with a grin.

Arthur bowed.

"Now, then, Remus, Sirius," Molly said, eyes flashing, "I have no intention of ruining dinner for everyone else, so we'll just take this discussion into the drawing room, please."

Lupin squeaked, "But—"

" _Now,_ " Molly said in a voice barely above a snarl.

"But, Molly, I—"

"Enough!"

Harry watched, stifling giggles, as Molly dragged two grown men out of the kitchen by their ears.

"Never in all my life have I seen such foolish, irresponsible, cowardly, selfish behaviour as the both of you have demonstrated as of late. My children had more sense and courage as _toddlers_ than you two have shown. I…." Molly closed the door, muffling her voice, but the group in the kitchen still heard every word.

The Weasley brood sat back and listened, their faces full of wry relief and interest, as someone other than themselves received the dressing down of the century for a change. Harry ate his pasta as if nothing odd had happened, but the light of unholy amusement in his eyes belied his placid expression.

“Well done,” Severus murmured to Harry under his breath.

Harry beamed. “Did it make your day better?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Good. It’s worth the headache we’ll all have later then.” Harry gave Severus a sly wink and whispered to him, “Thank Merlin I’m friends with someone who’s handy with a stirring rod, yeah?”

Severus chuckled and dipped a bit of garlic bread in his marinara.

* * *

That night, huddled on a conjured sofa in Harry’s bedroom and protected under the strongest charms he could manage, Severus told Harry of Adam.

“We went to primary school together,” Severus murmured into Harry’s shoulder, tears slipping down his cheeks every so often. “He was, until Lily, my only friend. The others—they disliked my clothing, my hair, everything about me. Father had not turned cruel yet, but even then, he could not afford much. I had to be content with the clothing in the donation bin at church, and sometimes, they did not have anything appropriate to a boy my size. Or a boy at all.

“Even worse, though my glamours had not set yet, at the time, I still had long hair. And as father could only afford to allow us a bath every five days, and even then, we had to wash with a pail at the sink, my hair was often oily. I could not help it, but the other children did not wish to be near such a neglected little boy. Adam was the only one who gave me a chance, the only one who saw through the veil of poverty and awkwardness to welcome the person I was within.”

Harry stroked Severus’ hair and cheek, brushing tears away. “Tell me about him. What was he like?”

“He was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. He had pale blonde hair, eyes as blue as the sky, and a cherubic little face.” Not that it had done him any good in the end. “I loved him dearly. Perhaps, knowing myself as I do now, he may have been my first fancy.”

Harry’s hands halted on Severus’ hair and his breath caught. “Sev, you’re gay?”

“Homosexual is the proper term, but no. I am not simply _gay_. I am… you know what I am, little one.” Severus dropped his voice to a whisper and added extra silencing charms around their heads. “By nature of my true being, I am pansexual. Our kind cannot afford to be picky when it comes to mates.”

Harry frowned, but it had a speculative quality rather than that of revulsion. “So it’s a genetic thing with you, then?”

Severus nodded. “It is the same with most dark beings, and many light beings as well. We are hunted, so we have evolved to survive in a hostile environment. For example, males of my… kin and many other beings are also able to bear children as well as father them for that reason.”

Harry gasped and clutched at Severus’ shirt. “Oh _Merlin_ ,” he gasped. “You’re able to—you can carry a baby, Sev?”

Severus phrased his reply carefully. “If my mate is both male and open to fathering one, yes. It will only work with a true mate, however. Never one taken for simple companionship. The magic will not hold otherwise—another protective evolution. Only one who accepts us as we are will be able to accept our young, so only one who accepts us as we are completely will ever have the ability to father them with a male of my kind.”

Harry gave him a wistful, hopeful smile, and Severus’ heart thumped. Oh Merlin. Did Harry want that with him, one day?

“Amazing.” Harry hugged him close and kissed Severus’ forehead. “Oh, Sev. Don’t worry. I still love you just the same.”

Severus tightened his embrace. “It truly does not repulse you?”

“Well, I only go for one gender,” Harry began.

Severus looked down, crestfallen and bleeding inside. “I see.”

Harry stroked Severus’ cheek, brushing a tear away. “—But as it’s _men_ , I would be rather a hypocrite if it did.”

Severus jerked his head up, shocked. “But… how? I have seen you near Miss Delacour. If you were homosexual, the allure would not affect you.”

Harry snorted. “It _doesn’t_. That’s an act to keep the nosy prats and Rita Skeeter out of my business. Must be a good one if it fooled you.”

Severus’ heart raced. “Truly?”

“Y-yeah.”

The breathless quality of Harry’s voice warned Severus he was too close to crossing the line. With a wince, he leaned away a little and rubbed Harry’s back.

“I am relieved that you are able to accept me as I am.”

“I do, Sev. It’s okay. I’m glad you understand me, too.”

Severus nodded and sighed into Harry’s hair. “I do.” He tried to remember where he had been in his narrative. “I believe I had just told you that, looking back, I suspect Adam was my first fancy?”

“Yeah. He sounds like a sweet person.”

“He was.”

“ _Was_?” Harry winced. “What happened?”

Severus shuddered and closed his eyes. “It is… a disturbing story, Harry. Are you sure you wish to hear it?”

“Does it haunt you when dementors come?”

 _Merlin_ , yes.

Severus nodded tersely.

“Then tell me. It can’t be worse than what I’ve seen, can it?”

“Perhaps not worse, but… it may be disturbing in ways you are not yet accustomed to.” Severus paused and took a shaky breath. “But then, it may be wise to prepare you for the worst of the world. The men and women we are fighting are truly depraved, and we would be wise to ensure we understand our enemies.”

“Tell me, Sev. I’ll be okay.”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes and turned into his friend’s embrace. “You recall, child, that I told you religion was the reason my father rejected my heritage? That he was a supposed devout Catholic and because his religion denounces both wizards and… beings of my persuasion, he was doubly set against me?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Adam went to the same church as we did. Well, Mother never attended, but then, she is Japanese and follows the religion of their people. Shinto, I believe is the name for it.”

“Your Mum is full-blooded Japanese, but her name was Eileen Prince?”

Severus chuckled softly. “No. She simply chose a pureblood name as an alias when she moved to Britain, for protection’s sake, and altered the memories of her chosen family so that she would be recognised as a Prince, but not one the family wanted to keep in their bloodline. It was enough to hide her true heritage without stealing what did not belong to her and inciting the wrath of the goblins, who are notoriously difficult to fool. Her true name is Chitose Nakamura, or rather, Nakamura Chitose, as the Japanese, Chinese, and similar cultures place family names first.”

“They do? So my name would be Potter Harry there?”

“Yes, exactly. And I would be Snape Severus, or, if I choose to use mother’s name, which I may do when we travel there for safety’s sake, Nakamura Severus.”

“That’s brilliant. Will you tell me about Japanese culture sometimes before we go so I’m not a total dunderhead?”

Severus chuckled. “You could never be a dunderhead, but yes, I will prepare you as best as I can. I will teach you a little of the language as well, if you are interested. Though that will also involve teaching you their alphabets, of which they have several.”

“Definitely!”

“Lovely. Then we shall start with ‘hello.’ _Konnichiwa_.”

“ _K-konnichiwa_?”

“Yes, very good. There are other words that mean the same thing, much as we have many ways of saying hello, but that one is a good standard greeting. You say _moshimoshi_ when you call someone on the telephone, for example. Personal calls, at any rate. You would still most likely answer with _konnichiwa_ for business calls.”

“Wicked!” Harry grinned and curled up into Severus’ throat. “Do you speak Japanese, then?”

“Yes, but it has been many years since I have had need of it. I fear I am rusty. We shall learn again together, hmm?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Harry kissed Severus’ cheek. “Go on, though. I interrupted again. You said you went to the same church as Adam.”

Severus grimaced. “Yes, if one could call it that. When Adam and I turned ten, the church chose Adam as an altar boy. At the time, I was rather jealous. I wanted to be included even if I did not fully believe in the Catholic credo and I knew I was no Muggle. It hurt that I was, once again, overlooked and left out.” A shudder crept down his spine. “But when I learned the truth of what happened to ‘Father Redding’s’ altar boys, I was simply horrified.”

“Horrified? Oh, _gods_. What happened, Sev?”

“It is… it is nightmarish. Do you know Catholic priests are forbidden from taking a partner, via marriage or otherwise? They are meant to be entirely celibate and dedicate their lives wholly to the Christian god.”

Harry shivered. “I take it by your tone, this Father Redding wasn’t celibate?”

“He did not take women for his pleasures. Instead, he used nine and ten-year-old boys to sate his physical needs.”

Harry jerked up with a gasp, eyes wide with horror. “ _What_? Oh, fuck, Sev, he _raped_ them? A-Adam too?”

“Repeatedly.” Severus snarled, “And all the while, he would preach every other week on the ‘sins’ of fornication and alternative sexualities. The congregation hung on his every word—particularly my arse of a father—and the entire time, he was raping ten-year-old boys and telling them they would burn if they did not _let_ him!”

Tears rolled down Harry’s face. He covered his mouth and gave a little mewl of grief. “Oh, gods. Oh, _gods_!”

Remorse heavy and cold in his chest, Severus tugged the boy back into his arms and shielded him in his wings. “Forgive me. I should not have spoken. I am so—”

“Ssh.” Harry touched a fingertip to Severus’ lips. “Don’t apologise. I’m not horrified at _you_. It’s just—Merlin, it’s so terrible!”

“Yes. I… should I go on?”

“Yes, Sev. Tell me. I won’t deny that it hurts to hear it, but you need to get this poison out of you. And I’d much rather endure this than lose you to the dementors or your grief.”

Severus took a ragged breath. “Y-yes. Well, after the rapes began, Adam was terrified. He begged me to help him, and so, I tried to. I went to my father first and told him the priest was raping him and the other altar boys, and I had proof.” He gave a bitter, tear-edged laugh. “I am sure you can imagine how well that meeting went.”

Harry grimaced. “Did he hurt you?”

“Beat me until I bled and told me I would burn in hell for my wicked lies.”

“Dear gods.” Harry cradled Severus close, as if he wanted to shield him from the darkness of his past, and his love drove some of the shadows from Severus’ heart away.

“Then, I attempted to speak to Adam’s parents, as did Adam himself. They seemed to believe us at first, but after speaking to the monster, they came away believing that I was a horrid liar and had convinced Adam to accuse the priest. They began attempting to separate us then, and helping him became more difficult.”

“Sev….” Harry buried his hands in Severus’ hair and cradled the yokai’s head against his chest. “Let me hold you. Let me shelter you, so you know you’re safe.”

Severus closed his eyes and listened to Harry’s heartbeat, taking comfort in his warmth, his gentle, loving touch.

“A-after that, we tried our teachers, but they were in the same parish, and the priest had already turned them against us. We tried our neighbours next, anyone— _anyone_ —but again and again, they turned us away. My father had spread rumours about my ‘falsehoods and sin’ and none of the neighbourhood would listen. And so, in despair, I told Adam I would try the police. But he… he had already given up.” Severus held back a bitter sob. “I left for the station then, but just as I made it into the office, I heard a call go out to Adam’s address and raced back home.”

He clung to Harry’s shirt and whispered, “He killed himself, Harry. He stole his father’s shotgun and shot himself in the face. His lovely little face. He was only eleven years old.”

“Oh, _fuck_!” Harry grabbed Severus up and held him so tight, the yokai could barely breathe. “Sev, oh, _Sev_. I’m so sorry. I’m—dear _gods_! Why would no one even _check_? It’s—I can’t stand it. They should have—someone should have—Merlin, I’m so sorry.”

Severus cradled his weeping friend close and buried tears of his own in Harry’s hair. I failed him. I tried so hard, but I failed him.”

“Ssh. It’s not your fault, Sev. You were the only one who tried to save him. It’s the rest of that godsforsaken town who failed him.”

Severus gave a tear-laden snort. “Yes. And me.”

“They failed you too, yes.” Harry tucked Severus’ head against his shoulder once more and petted his hair and ears. The gentle touch soothed his fractious emotions.

“But listen to me, Severus. You’re not alone any longer. You _do_ have friends. Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and me. No matter what happens, you’re not alone. You’ll _always_ have me, okay?”

Severus clung to his dearest friend and prayed with all he was worth that it was true.

“Come on, Sev,” Harry murmured. “That’s enough for tonight. Just let me hold you for a while, then we’ll try to sleep.”

“I… I am not sure I can sleep.”

Harry kissed his forehead. “It’s okay. I’m pretty upset too. If you can’t, we’ll stay up and comfort each other. But at least try, please. We never know when you might be called next, and you need to be rested.”

Severus sighed. “In that case, perhaps we should use a potion.”

“Will you be able to shift and get to your perch after you drink it?”

“Simply pour a little into the cap for me once I am on my perch, and it will negate that problem.”

“All right. I’ve some Dreamless Sleep in my bag. Your improved formula. Will that do?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“Then let’s go to sleep, Sev. I’ll be right here with you, okay?”

Severus traced the trails of tears down Harry’s face. “And I, with you.”

“Yeah.” Harry kissed Severus’ fingers and held the yokai’s hand to his cheek. “How do you say goodnight in Japanese?”

Severus smiled as he Summoned the potion from Harry’s knapsack. “ _Oyasumi nasai_ , or _oyasumi_ , informally.”

“ _Oyasumi nasai_ , Severus.”

“ _Oyasumi nasai_ , little one.”

Severus handed Harry the potion and shifted into Xerxes. After taking a little and letting it ease him towards sleep, he felt Harry’s gentle fingertips smooth down his wings in soft strokes.

“Rest easy, Xerxes. I’m here.”

A light kiss landed on his back and footsteps padded away. He fell asleep before Harry made it to the bed.

* * *

With Harry protected under Molly's watchful eye and the dark lord's near inexhaustible potions list completed—for the time being, at least—Severus finally had a spare moment to return to Hogwarts. He had been meaning to speak to Salazar all summer, but first Riddle, then the Dursleys, then dementors, then Molly, and _then_ the mutts had all conspired to keep him hopping. As it was, Azrael was expected back at Grimmauld Place in an hour to help clean and defuse the traps in the master bedroom. He hoped Orion and Walburga hadn't been so thorough in their blood purist fascism as to leave anti-halfblood traps in their own bedroom, or that evening would be _interesting_ to say the least.

Still, at least he had a few moments to speak to his house founder and friend. If nothing else came of it, he would certainly find the conversation interesting, and that was more than he could say of the fools who had taken to shadowing his every move at Headquarters.

Gods, truly, it would be a mercy to euthanise those mutts. No. No, Harry would be upset if Severus' self-control slipped so far, and while the Ministry _might_ overlook it considering Black was a wanted criminal and Lupin a werewolf, they also might not. Leaving Harry without his mate and guardian was simply not worth the pleasure exterminating those parasites would bring.

Ah, well. A man could dream.

Severus stalked the halls at a rapid pace, unlocked his wards via his blood and magical signature—a much more secure method of protection than passwords and simple wards—and stepped into his quarters. The house elves had kept it spotless, as always, and Severus sighed at the familiar comfort these rooms offered him.

Spinner's End had never been _home_.

He took a moment to breathe and restore some sense of calm to his fragmented spirit, staring wistfully at the sofa, but he had no time to rest, weary as he was.

"Salazar?"

The portrait was fast asleep, and no wonder, having no one to talk to all summer. A second call of his name had the Naga jerking awake.

"S-Severus? Ah, you've returned."

"Only for a moment, I'm afraid." Severus moved to the portrait. "We need to speak, but wait a moment while I…." He called all his formidable power to the fore and cast the strongest anti-spying and silencing wards he could.

Salazar's expression turned grim. "It is serious then."

"Indeed." Severus tested his wards and, satisfied, turned back to the portrait. "It seems you may have been correct about Harry."

Salazar's eyebrows shot up. "How so?"

"I, like you, begin to wonder if the boy is human."

Salazar breathed in sharply, or imitated it, at least. "By the ancestors. What evidence have you seen of a non-human origin?"

"Three weeks ago, Harry, his dunderhead of a cousin, and I were attacked by dementors on Privet Drive. Harry successfully drove them off, but the Ministry is putting the boy through a full criminal trial for the Patronus he called to save us."

Salazar gasped. "So they are clearly trying to make an example of the boy."

"Indeed, and that is what makes the rest of the story so telling. You are aware of my unfortunate weakness to dementors?"

Salazar nodded, his eyes sympathetic. "I, too, had difficulty with them for many years after Irene's death."

"Yes. I believe it." Severus rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Harry is attempting to help me overcome it by discussing my past. I… confess, I am terrified it will alter his opinion of me, and I will lose him."

"Severus, that boy is entirely devoted to you. It would not surprise me in the least if Harry is chosen one day as your mate."

Severus' cheeks burned and his ears folded back.

"Ah. So he is already?"

Severus rubbed the back of his neck. "Apparently, fate chose him young. He has always been able to see me and only me. Albus and I only put the facts together at the end of last term."

"You have not spoken to him yet?"

Severus choked. "He is _sixteen_."

Salazar chuckled. "Ah, I had forgotten the new laws. My second mate was but sixteen when we were wed, and it was seen as quite normal at the time, even a bit on the conservative side. Most girls were married at the age of twelve or thirteen in those days, but I wanted her to be older and more mature before I dared reveal the truth of myself to her."

"Yes, well, should I attempt to 'wed' Harry, assuming he is willing, a day before his eighteenth birthday, they will lock me away in Azkaban and throw away the key, and gods forbid my glamours should ever drop while I am at the mercy of the dementors."

Salazar grimaced. "Then we shall most assuredly wait to speak to him of it. For now, however, do continue with your story."

Severus nodded. "As you might have already surmised, I fainted at the first sight of them, leaving Harry to deal with them all alone. I was in my animagus form, so at least he did not have to flee while attempting to protect a fully-grown yokai, but nevertheless, it was a trying experience for us both. He carried me to Arabella Figg's home after the battle, a squib, and asked for her help, but when he realised there was little she could do, he took matters into his own hands. Rather than wait for an Order member to come or for me to wake naturally, Harry revived me himself. Wandlessly. In the home of a squib. And the Ministry never said a word."

Salazar paled. "He has non-human magic."

Severus nodded. "It seems he has been using wandless magic to keep himself well over the summer since his second or third year."

"After his scent changed and his powers grew."

"Indeed."

Salazar took a shaky breath. "Merlin. Then I think it is safe to say the boy is my heir. Most likely, my grandson or great-grandson. Which would absolutely explain his ability with Parseltongue."

"You believe he is a Naga then?"

Salazar closed his eyes and shook his head. "Nagas change in appearance as early as yokai do. It is highly unlikely. If he were a Naga, he would have shifted the moment Albus unlocked his powers. He does not _smell_ like a Naga regardless."

Severus rubbed his chin. "You said your mate was not human."

"No, and neither was my daughter's. I highly doubt my grandson would have mated a human either, but I did not meet her before my death, and he never brought her to see my portrait here. I believe he was unaware of its existence, as I had assumed the other founders would not wish to include my legacy for their students to learn from."

"Indeed. Then do you know what race Harry is taking after?"

Salazar's expression shuttered. "I do not, not on such little information, and it may well be best to let such secrets lie until it is time for his inheritance to be known regardless. Many races keep their secrets until then, with good reason."

Severus searched the portrait's eyes, but Salazar gave nothing further away, and Severus sensed it was a bad idea to push further regardless.

"Very well. You _will_ tell us when you are aware, won't you?"

"I will tell you everything I safely can."

Severus supposed that would have to be enough. "Thank you."

"Not at all. Now, tell me of Harry's trial. What is being done to protect him?"

Severus conjured a seat and a pot of tea and obeyed.


	17. A Short Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Harry's fourth year summer. Can I just say that I absolutely _loathe_ writing Umbridge? Ugh. She's so vile. Even just writing the Order talking about her makes me want to ragequit the fic (I didn't, don't worry!). Whatever you can say about JK--*cough* transphobic retroactive faker *cough*--the woman definitely knew what she was doing when she spawned the radioactive cesspool of evil stew that is Umbridge. Yuck. At least there's plenty of our boys being sweet and snuggly to soften the blow.

#  **Chapter 17**

##  _A Short Leash_

###  _17 AUGUST, 1996_

Severus waited in the Order kitchen for Albus and Harry to return from the boy’s hearing with a cup of tea and the Prophet. He would have liked to appear as Azrael instead, but they had spread the information around that Azrael worked on Order things most days, and so he could not reasonably be expected to appear. At least, not yet. As soon as Severus had his say, the man planned on storming out and coming back in two minutes later, once he had applied his glamours and altered his scent charm to give off Azrael’s signature. 

One couldn’t be too careful around the wolf, after all, and, of course, the ‘idiot twins’ were also present. Severus wagered they had come to appear supportive, not that it would do any good, but damn. If they didn’t shut up soon, he would solve everyone’s problems with them and murder them on the spot.

Black snarled, “What are you doing here, _Snivellus_?”

Severus ignored the idiot and scanned his paper for seeds of truth. With the Ministry doing everything it could to cover up the rebirth of Voldemort and discredit Harry, the lies were plentiful indeed. At least Hermione had caught that Skeeter bitch at the end of the Tournament last year and tamed her pen, however temporarily. Harry had enough shite to deal with without her acid quill tearing his reputation apart every two minutes. 

The fact that she had added that any further vicious lies about Harry, whether within the terms of her one year of forced placidity or not, would result in an immediate trip to the Ministry had sweetened the deal immeasurably. Skeeter still touted the Ministry line, claiming Harry must have been confused at the end of the tournament and no wonder, given he was a fifteen-year-old in a contest designed for the strongest of young adult wizards, but then, the woman couldn’t be expected to know the truth. 

Severus had a few ideas on how to fix that situation, but first, they needed a little… _dirt_ on the minister. The man undoubtedly had skeletons in his closet—what politician didn’t?—and once Severus rooted them out, he would have him. Returning the favour of the Ministry’s lies, but this time with irrefutable evidence attached, sounded lovely to him.

The mutt grumbled, “What does Harry _see_ in you?”

Severus shot him a dark glare over the paper. “Do you need me to remind you, mutt, that we are in public, and one word to the wrong person will not only endanger my life but the life of the boy you claim to care about so much?”

“It’s just the Order here, Snape.”

“Yes, and as few of the Order can occlude and any one of them may be a spy, you are still risking everything on a grudge.”

“If anyone is a spy….”

Severus rolled his eyes. “That _is_ my job description, Black. As for the rest of the Order, need I remind you, again, of your own poor choices in friends?”

Black snarled under his breath, “Fucking greasy bastard.”

“If you’ve yet to realise that attacking me will only bring Potter’s ire upon you, whether we are compatriots or not, then I must say, Black, you are a _special_ kind of fool, aren’t you? I see Azkaban is taking its toll upon your puny mental facilities. Or perhaps that has more to do with your new… _leash_. It must chafe to be so useless to everyone involved in the war, particularly since it came about of your own foolishness.”

Black jerked to his feet and yanked out his wand. “Shut it, Snape! All I did was try to help Harry, and—”

“By nearly bashing his brains out on the pavement so you could snarl at his familiar? In public? _After_ he had warned you to stay away from him?” Severus chuckled under his breath. “Stings to be rejected at every turn, doesn’t it?”

Lupin gave him a dark smile. “Well, you would know.”

Severus held his gaze without a blink. “Green is not a good colour on you, wolf.”

Black looked to Lupin’s red face, confusion rendering his expression even more vacant than usual. “Green? But he’s wearing brown.”

Severus snorted. “As if more proof were needed of your abundant vapidity, Black. Really, I could not have insulted you better myself. Bravo.” He ended his statement with a dramatic slow clap and a smirk.

“Shut it, Snape. Take your big, greasy nose out of my business. Nobody wants you.”

“Ah, more maturity from the mutt. How quaint.” With a sneer, Severus returned to his paper.

And caught Black trying to curse him while his back was turned. 

Obviously, Black had forgotten he was no longer dealing with a lonely, besieged boy.

“ _Divestifu—_ ”

Severus flicked his hand and silenced the arsehole nonverbally, stopping the curse before Black could finish without so much as looking over his shoulder. 

With Black subdued, Severus smirked and turned another page of his paper. 

“And that,” came Harry’s voice from just behind Severus, “is just one reason why I trust Professor Snape more than you, Black, whether he hates me or not. At least I know if I’m ever in trouble, he’s quick enough to make the bad guys regret it.”

Severus looked up with a fabricated scowl. “It is whether I _would_ do or not that is in question.”

Harry shrugged. “I trust you, sir. Even if you make me muck out your cauldrons for saying so.”

Severus made a face as if he had just bit into a sour lemon. He imagined walking in on Black and the wolf snogging, and that was enough to curl his lip into a sneer of disgust. 

“I take it that I won’t be seeing the back of you this year then, Potter?”

Harry grinned. “No, sir. The headmaster put them in their place soon enough and made them regret ever trifling with me.”

“Pity,” Severus said and folded his paper under his arm. “It seems my plans to watch you wail and bemoan your fate have, once again, fallen to the wayside, no thanks to that thrice-accursed Potter luck.”

Harry’s lips twitched. “And Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Yes, don’t remind me.” With that, Severus gave the old man an unamused glare and stormed out, robes snapping around his heels, but he knew full well that Albus and Harry had caught the light of mirth in his expression.

And if the Duplicitous Duo caught it, too, well, he had never missed a chance to rub their noses in it and he had no plans of changing that anytime soon.

As he reapplied his glamours and altered his scent, a subtle eavesdropping charm allowed him to listen to the conversation after he left just as if he had still been within the kitchen.

Black whined, “How can you stand him, Harry? He’s so _awful_.”

Harry’s voice came out cold and hard. “He’s not the one who attempted to curse someone behind their back. No, that was you, wasn’t it?”

“It was just a harmless prank, Harry!”

“Bollocks. The twins make harmless pranks. Nothing you ever did to Professor Snape—or anyone else for that matter—was harmless.” 

“I—”

“Just shut up, Black. I’m not interested in listening to you wail and bemoan your fate, as Snape said. There are people I actually _care_ about waiting to hear the results of the hearing.”

“Wait,” said Lupin, “ _we_ care. We’re here to support—”

“And when did I ever imply that I wanted your support?” Harry snapped at the wolf, “You’re just as bad as Black. Did you bother to stop him cursing Snape? No, once again, you stood by like the coward you are and did nothing. Just go. Get out of my sight. I’ve no use for berks like you.”

“But—”

“I believe Harry has made his point,” Albus said in a hard tone. “I, too, have little patience for your actions this morning. I will advise you to leave, now, before I decide perhaps a harsher punishment than what you have already received is necessary.”

Severus walked back into the house, glamoured as Azrael, just in time to see Harry give the mutts a devious grin and Albus a too-innocent smile. 

“I reckon Mum would just _love_ to hear about that underhanded prank, wouldn’t she, sir?”

Albus chuckled darkly. “Oh, I imagine she will hear of it one way or another. She always does.”

“True. I can’t wait to see the fireworks.”

Severus walked into the kitchen as Azrael and gave Harry his usual shy smile. “Harry, how did it go?”

Harry grinned and raced into his arms. “Az. You came. I didn’t think you’d be back until tonight.”

Azrael hugged him and ruffled his hair. “I had to know, child. Are you safe?”

“Yes, the headmaster handed them their ar—er, their bums.”

Albus chuckled and squeezed Azrael’s shoulder. “I am glad you were able to be here to support him.”

“Yes.” Azrael gave Harry a wry smile and watched, amused, as Molly came into the kitchen behind the mutts. “I heard something of fireworks and mischief as I came in. Would you like to catch me up on what I missed?”

By the wicked glint in Harry’s eyes, he had seen her, too. “Oh, nothing much. Just Black trying to curse an innocent man and an Order member while his back was turned. Oh, and Lupin letting it happen like the coward he is.”

“ _What_ did you say?” Molly’s shout rang throughout the entire house, waking the bitch in the entrance hall, but bloody hell, it was worth it. 

Lupin flinched and slumped into his seat as if it could hide him. Black gulped and turned, eyes popping.

“Molly. Shite.” 

“Yes, indeed,” said 'Azrael' with a smirk.

* * *

Harry’s good humour at Molly’s handling of the Moronic Mutts did not last long. That night, the headmaster called an emergency Order meeting, and Harry paced the floor, listening over the twins’ newest invention.

“The Minister, it appears, is quite angry over his loss of face this morning. It is true I have not been able to find a professor at this time—after the past four years, I wished to be more stringent in my hiring process and applicants were few and far between regardless—”

“ _I_ applied,” Black muttered.

Severus snorted. “And as you are, according to the Ministry, a dangerous criminal and murderer on the run, I should think even a man with your limited brain capacity could see why hiring you would be an _infinitely_ bad idea.”

“But a glamour would—”

Severus gave a sharp laugh. “You? Act under glamours and disguise? Black, you are far too foolish and impulsive to be trusted with such a task. Your fixation on Potter alone would reveal you within an hour, if it took that long.”

“And that doesn’t even take his cruelty and immaturity into account,” said Molly with a huff. 

Black whinged, “Molly! Come on. You’re not still hacked off about that little prank on Percy, are you? I only set the charm for a couple hours.”  

Molly slammed something into the table, probably her own hands. “You _set his toenails growing inwards_ for _six_ hours,” she cried, “at a magically-increased rate! What was worse is the charm had no counter, and not even Poppy could ease the pain! He couldn't walk without agony for three days even with Poppy's help, and _this_ is your idea of a _joke_? Gods forbid you ever reproduce. You would kill your poor children before they grew out of nappies!” 

Oh, damn. Harry had somehow missed that story. He shuddered in sympathy. Ouch.

“But it didn't hurt him permanently,” said Black. 

“And that’s somehow supposed to make it less reprehensible? You cannot be trusted around adults, let alone children.”

“Yes I can! Kids love me.”

“Name one,” said Severus with a snort. 

Black paused. “Well, they would love me if I could go anywhere,” he grumbled. 

“Be that as it may,” said Albus in a deceptively mild tone, “as I have delayed a decision this long in attempt to _protect_ Harry and the other students of Hogwarts, I would not hire a man who has continually placed students in danger for selfish pursuits, nor one who has shown such a propensity for vicious assaults on his colleagues and peers.” 

Black gave a sound like a deflating balloon and subsided.

“But,” Albus continued in a grim voice, “that has placed us in a dire situation. With this new decree in effect, Cornelius can appoint whomever he wishes to the position. And there is little I can do to prevent him as I do not have another viable candidate at this time.”

Molly ventured, “What about Bill? Or Nymphad—?”

“ _Please_ don’t call me that,” Tonks complained, hair flashing vibrant red.

“I am afraid Madam Tonks is too inexperienced as an auror to leave her position at this time,” said Albus. “To do so would threaten her chances of further employment, and we all know the position at Hogwarts is cursed. She would only be able to remain on for one year, and then would have difficulty returning to the force. I would not harm her in such a manner. And Bill, as well, has just taken up a new position. To leave it so soon would also harm his chances of future employment at Gringotts.” 

Albus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I have considered every member of the Order for the position and, unfortunately, have been able to find no one suitable. I fear we shall have little choice but to endure whomever Cornelius foists on us, at least for the time being. Severus and Azrael are working on plans to undermine him, and, I hope, they will soon begin to bear fruit. For now, I fear we must struggle on and cope as best as we are able.”

“The trouble is, Albus,” said Bill, “that we know Cornelius is doing this in attempt to steal power and influence from you. We all know he’s terrified you’ll replace him, barmy as it is. He’s not going to be satisfied with just placing another Ministry-appointed professor within Hogwarts, especially not now he’s so desperate to hide You-Know-Who’s resurrection. He’ll do everything he can to have you removed from power.”

“William is, most likely, correct,” said Severus in a grave voice. “I fear we have only seen the beginning of the Ministry’s interference at Hogwarts.”

“Well then,” said Professor McGonagall, “we shall simply have to do what we can to minimise their ability to cause trouble.”

“What can we do, Minerva?” Molly’s voice rang with worry. “The Ministry sets the laws. Fudge could make it illegal to interfere, and then we’ll all be in a right pickle.”

“Well,” said Lupin, “Severus has never had issue with doing illegal things. For the sake of the greater good, of course.”

“Indeed,” Severus said, voice icy-cold, “I _do_ often risk my life in illegal pursuits to keep your ungrateful hide in one piece. I should think you would be more appreciative, but then, I suppose envy does make one rather… _petty_.”

Black started, “Shut up, Sniv—” 

“ _Silencio_ ,” Dumbledore said, and Harry bet Black spent all night breaking his curse. “If you have nothing of worth to contribute, Sirius, then you may sit in silence and consider the consequences of your actions, for once. As for you, Remus, I believe we are overdue for a discussion concerning your contributions to the Order.”

Lupin choked out, “Y-yes, sir.”

“Very good. Then, as we have little else to discuss this evening, at least until plans can be made to mitigate the Ministry’s interference at Hogwarts, perhaps you would like to accompany me to the drawing room?”

“Y-yes, Albus.”

“Thank you. Dismissed. Severus, do let me know when your other plans make headway, or—”

Fred disconnected the extendable ear and drew it back into his pocket. “Mum will be up soon,” he said by way of explanation. “We’d best pretend to be fuming that they left us out again.”

Harry shrugged and went to finish his summer assignment for Transfiguration. He never fumed about the Order meetings, and to do so now would be out of character. After all, Severus kept him well-informed, with or without the twins’ inventions. 

As predicted, Molly poked her head in Harry’s room barely a moment later. 

“Doing homework, Harry?”

He gave her a wan smile. “Bit difficult to work on it at the Dursleys’.”

Her lips pursed in a moue of irritation. “Yes, I imagine so.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Well, at least _one_ of my sons has his priorities in order.”

Harry smiled to himself as Molly bid him goodnight and left. He liked being called her son, even if he felt a bit guilty for deceiving her. Still, as much as he loved Molly, the woman was notorious for coddling them, and Harry couldn’t afford to be coddled if he expected to survive. 

It was a necessary evil, he supposed.

Half an hour later, Azrael slipped into the room and sat next to Harry upon the bed. “How much did you eavesdrop upon?”

Harry snorted. “Should’ve realised you would know.”

“I believe Albus is aware of it as well, but allows it as he feels as we do—Molly means well, but her determination to see you remain children until well into your eighties is detrimental to your chances of survival.”

Harry snorted. “I reckon she might let us grow up a _bit_ before then.”

“I shall believe it when I see it.”

Harry couldn’t help a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, she’ll baby us till we’re old and grey. But as far as the meeting goes, we heard up until the headmaster left with Lupin.”

A devious smirk crossed Severus’ face. “Ah, that. I imagine you will be immensely pleased with what I managed to overhear concerning Albus’ plans for our _beloved_ werewolf.”

Harry sat up with a grin. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Albus wishes to establish an alliance with the European werewolf packs before the Dark Lord does. And to that end, he is sending Lupin to Germany in the morning to open the channels of communication between them.”

“To get him out of our hair, you mean,” said Harry with a snort.

“Yes, precisely. It is only a pity Albus cannot dispose of Black so easily.”

“Well, we’ll be rid of him except for Order meetings and holidays soon. Can you manage not to kill him for three more weeks?”

“Perhaps. It will be a test of my patience to be sure.”

“You can always vent to me if you need to. I reckon I’ll need it, too.”

Azrael tucked Harry into his arms. “I am here, child. Whenever you have need of me.”

Harry kissed Azrael’s cheek and sighed, relief and love warm in his chest. “I know.”

* * *

By the time another week passed, Severus was more than ready to murder Black. The man had taken to shadowing his every move—and Azrael’s too—and Severus wasn’t the only one sick of it. Harry had even considered giving in far enough to play a game of chess with the berk if only to get him out of Severus’ way for a few moments. While Severus appreciated the offer, he advised strongly against it.

“Give him even the slightest bit of positive reinforcement, Harry, and he will latch on with unparalleled ferocity. Please, for everyone’s sake, just stay well away from the arsehole.”

Harry sighed and moved his pawn to E4. “All right. Just thought it might be nice to win a game for once.”

Severus snorted. “Yes, well, on that note, checkmate.”

Harry groaned and knocked over his king. “ _E_ _very_ damn time.”

Because of Black’s shadowing, Severus hadn’t felt comfortable visiting Harry again at night, at least not where Black could see. As a result, he wasn’t there when Harry began having visions again, Occlumency or no.

Severus bolted up from a nightmare of blood and ash and Riddle’s return to a sharp ringing sound. The alarm on his floo. He dragged on a dressing gown, expecting to meet Albus with some last-minute advice or worry before the school year began, only to find Harry’s tearful face in his fire.

“Harry? Merlin, child.” He knelt before the floo. “What is it? Are you safe?”

“I… y-yes, but….”  

Harry looked over his shoulder and mimed zipping his lips. Severus reached through the fire to cast a silencing charm.

“Thank you. I’m okay, but I think we need to visit the headmaster.”

“What? Why, little one?”

“I-I had a vision, Severus. Even with occlumency.”

“Shite.” Severus stepped back. “Come through. Let me wake Albus and we shall discuss it with him shortly.”

Harry nodded and stepped through the floo, stumbling into Severus’ arms on the other side. “It wasn’t terrible this time, Sev, but I thought they were supposed to stop once I learned to occlude. Why aren’t they?”

Severus winced and stroked Harry’s hair, worry cold in his veins. “I do not know.”

* * *

Severus brought Harry back to Grimmauld place after their meeting with the headmaster, fearful and worried for his mate. Harry had seen little beyond a corridor and a door in his vision, but he had known that Riddle wanted to get behind it with all his being. Albus surmised that Voldemort was, most likely, after the latter half of the prophecy but couldn’t verify it yet. What worried him more was that he also couldn’t verify whether Riddle was, as of yet, aware of the link between himself and Harry or not. Had Riddle sent him the vision on purpose, or had his single-minded focus simply been too powerful for Harry’s shields? 

The question left Severus chilled. If Riddle knew of the mind link, he might learn that Harry could _feel_ the pain of his victims as well. And if he learned that, it would be all too easy to murder Harry through his visions. He need do nothing more than go on a killing spree. Gods help them then. 

Merlin, why hadn’t Harry’s occlumency worked? Severus was able to keep the dark lord out of his mind, after all. Why should it not work for Harry? A curse scar might explain the pain Harry felt in contact with Riddle’s magic, but not _this_ kind of link. Nothing explained it, not in Severus’ experience.

And yet, Severus remembered how closemouthed the headmaster had been during their late-night meeting, how stressed and worried, and he trembled inside. Did Albus know? And if he did, why was he keeping it quiet? Come to think of it, the man had been keeping secrets since Harry’s second year.

What in Merlin’s name did he know?

A sharp voice brought Severus out of his musing with a vengeance. He turned to find Black watching them, his expression murderous.

“What are you _doing_ to my godson, Snivellus?”

Harry gave him an unimpressed glare. “As if it’s any of your business.”

“It is if he’s buggering you! That’s _illegal_.”

Harry snorted. “Merlin, you’re an idiot. As if he’d even be _interested_.” A quick brush against Severus’ wing, draped protectively against Harry’s back, let Severus know the boy was on guard.

Severus rubbed his wing against Harry’s side, a message to let him know he would protect him, too.

“Well,” Black snapped, “obviously he’s up to _something_ he ought not to be if he’s taking you through the floo at two in the morning so he isn’t caught.” Black rounded on Severus, fists raised. “That’s how you stole him away from me, isn’t it? You’ve been buggering him around since he was a child!”

Harry shoved Black away so hard the bastard tumbled over backwards. “Shut the _fuck_ up, you bloody wanker! Professor Snape has never laid a finger on me, but you—now I have to question what kind of fucked up nutter you are, knowing you’ve been bloody _watching_ me all night. What did you do, stand over my godsdamned bed? And you say _he’s_ the creep.”

Black staggered to his feet. “But, but, _Harry_ , he can’t just take you out of here in the middle of the night! It’s obvious he’s been manipulating you. I mean, this kind of… relationship, there’s a psychological element involved, and—”

“A _psychological element_?” Harry snorted. “So Lupin put you up to this then.”

Black flushed, but he did not admit the obvious. “Er… well, look. I think we should go to Albus about this… situation. Now.”

Severus snorted and gave a mock-gracious bow. “By all means, Black, do floo the headmaster and report my supposed philandering. I’ll just stand by and watch the show, shall I?”

Harry gave Severus a wicked grin. “Maybe we _should_ have a nice little chat with Albus about this mess.”

“Indeed.”

“Should I give the headmaster a ring, then?”

“Be my guest.”

“Right.” 

Black watched, nonplussed, as Harry tossed a pinch of floo powder into the fire and called, “Headmaster Dumbledore’s Office, Hogwarts.” He stuck his head in the flames when they turned green. “Headmaster, are you still awake? We have a _situation_ at headquarters.”

Albus called, “Harry? Child, what is it? Did you forget something?”

“No, sir. I told you everything I remember. It just happens that when our blackbird brought me back to headquarters, Moronic Mutt Number Two—”

“Wha—oi!”

Harry went on without acknowledging Black’s whinging. “—Was waiting up with some accusations that need to be addressed, particularly since it’s obvious he’s been stalking me while I sleep.”

“ _What_?” Black choked out, “Harry, I’m just watching over you.”

“Right. While I _sleep_ , against my will, and without my knowledge. What part of that isn’t creepy old pervert behaviour?”

Black practically choked on his tongue, much to Severus’ amusement.

Albus sighed. “Merlin. I shall come through and settle this so we are not forced to discuss sensitive information over the floo network. Move back, child.”

Harry obeyed, and Albus came through dressed in the same vomit-inducing dressing gown he had worn for their earlier meeting. 

“Now, what was this about accusations and stalking teenagers whilst they sleep?”

Black coughed and tugged at his collar. “Er, well, I just… Snape’s been hovering, and so has that Azrael person, so I had to make sure Harry was okay! And he’s not. Snape took him out of here into his _bedroom_ about an hour ago, and it’s obvious he’s been… er… _philandering_ with him, and—”

Severus snorted. “Original, Black.”

“Shut it, Snivellus!”

Albus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sirius, _sit down_. As it so happens, it is quite impossible for Severus to have been philandering with anyone as Harry and Severus spent the last hour in my office discussing Harry’s visions.”

Black gaped. “What? But… in the middle of the night?”

“As I see most of my visions in _dreams_ , Black,” Harry snarled, “that _does_ tend to be when they occur. Professor Snape was simply doing his job. You, on the other hand, were spying on us. While I _slept_.”

“Yes,” said the headmaster in a grim tone. “And that will cease this instant. Severus has already proved himself beyond reproach, and your unceasing grudge against him has, yet again, put Harry’s life in danger, as well as Severus himself. This has gone quite far enough.”

Black glared and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s… he’s _Confunded_ you or something. I’ll just… the Ministry would love to hear—”

Severus burst into laughter. “Yes, Black, please _do_ report my supposed philandering with a student I apparently hate to the Ministry. Have you forgotten already that you are a wanted criminal and under a gag curse? Well, I won’t argue against _this_ instance of utter stupidity. It would certainly spare me the trouble of dealing with your accursed leg-humping at all hours of the day.”

Harry snorted into his hands, choking back laughter. “Merlin, Professor.”

Severus gave him a smug smirk.

“Indeed,” Albus agreed with a smile for Severus and a grim stare for Black. “And, Sirius, that makes the third time this evening you have threatened Severus with dire consequences for nothing more than protecting a student in his care. I have, I am afraid, reached the limit of my tolerance of your poor behaviour.”

He removed his wand and levelled it at the suddenly white-faced mutt. “While I cannot, unfortunately, remove you from your own house, I can and will place charms upon you that forcibly remove you from either Harry’s or Severus’ presence whenever they enter a room. Granted, this would make it considerably more difficult for you to participate in the Order or even live here comfortably, but as the situation between the three of you has grown far out of hand, I will not hesitate to employ said charms should I ever hear of such disturbing behaviour from you again. Do you understand?”

Black gave a pitiful whine. “But, _Albus_ —”

“Do you _understand_?”

The look Albus fixed upon the mutt left even Severus chilled. 

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Very good. I will not use the charms tonight, but one more problem from you, Sirius, and I am afraid I will need to take drastic measures to keep Harry and Severus safe.” Albus did not lower his wand. “I _am_ , however, going to alter your gag curse. You will not be allowed to spread lies about my potions master, particularly as your evidence appears to be sadly lacking.”

Black flinched, but said nothing further, thank Merlin. He had truly become a nuisance. A _dangerous_ nuisance, too.

“Very good.” The old man stood and tucked away his wand. “Severus, I will ask you to keep watch over Harry in your other form, please. I am afraid this obsession of Sirius’ has become quite alarming as of late, and I would feel safer if I knew you were watching over Harry and able to report the instant there is an issue, or if he should have further visions.”

Black whinged, “But, _Albus_ —”

“It is not up for discussion, Sirius.” Albus silenced the room and added, “Severus, I am sure Harry would feel safer with you to watch over him as well.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, please, I… I’m scared to sleep here now.”

“I shall not let this animal harm you,” Severus whispered to his mate. “You are safe.”

Harry whispered back, “Thank you, Sev.”

“You are welcome. Now, let us get you back in bed, shall we?”

Harry nodded in relief and followed Severus upstairs. “Sev, I’ll be glad when this summer is over.”

“So will I,” Severus muttered and laid a kiss on Harry’s forehead. “Sleep. I will guard you.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you.”

“I am here with sanction now, so all will be well. Oyasumi nasai, my friend.”

“Oyasumi nasai, Sev.”

After one last brush of Harry’s curls, Severus shifted into Xerxes and settled on Harry’s pillow. He fell asleep to the sound of Harry’s breathing.

* * *

Harry suspected Albus must have mentioned Black’s hovering to Molly, as the woman kept him busy from dawn to midnight from that night on and gave him dark looks whenever he came too close to Harry or Severus, and Azrael, too. Thank _Merlin_. The prat had been driving them both mad. 

Hermione arrived home a few days later and greeted him with a tight hug. She had tanned a bit and had a golden clip with lotus flowers in her hair.

“Harry! Merlin, I missed you!”

Harry laughed and hugged her back. “You’ve missed all the excitement, Hermione. I’ll be catching you up for weeks.”

“Ron told me some of it. Was Black really stalking you two?”

“Oh yes, but between Mum and the headmaster, he’s been put on a short leash.”

Hermione snickered. “Serve him right. Oh! I brought you back loads of interesting things from Japan, Harry. Ron said you were interested in the culture.”

“Azrael is half-Japanese, so yeah. Konnichiwa, by the way.”

Hermione beamed. “Well done. Has he taught you anything else yet?”

“Hai, sukoshi.”

“Oh, wonderful! We can chat a little. I picked up some of the language while I was there.”

Harry grinned. “We should teach some to Ron. Have our own sort-of-secret code.”

Hermione laughed. “Unless the people around us speak Japanese.” She plucked his sleeve. “Well, come on then. Let me show you my haul.”

Harry chuckled and followed her to his bedroom. “Um, ‘Mione, were you able to find…?”

“Yes, I have it.” She passed an ancient-looking tome to Harry, who grinned at the sight of it, though his face fell upon realising it was written in Kanji. 

“Damn. Might have realised it would be in Japanese.”

“Yes, you’ll need a translation charm to read it until you have greater command over the language, or you might just use this.” She handed him a strange object that looked a bit like a golden magnifying glass. “I picked it up in the shop I found the book. It’s a Translatrix. It will help you read anything in your mother tongue—English for us. Well, almost anything anyway. It’s not perfect—no translation is completely accurate—but it’s definitely close.”

Harry scanned the Translatrix over his book and grinned at the title. “Demons and Spirits of the East by Tamaki Saito. Oh, it even put her name in the western format. Well done, ‘Mione. This is brilliant.”

“It had better be for the price I paid for it,” she said with a snort. “Took a good third of the contents of your trust vault.”

“A _third_? Sweet Merlin. Well, Az did put the money in for that purpose, so that’s all right. I hadn’t realised this was _that_ expensive, though.”

“Well, considering what it covers, I can understand.”

Harry met her gaze. “You’ve read it?”

“Ah, just skimmed a chapter here and there.”

Which meant she had read the entire thing and probably had a journal full of notes on it. Damn.

“It teaches the secrets of yokai, Harry,” she went on, expression grim. “Secret magic, charms, all kinds of things that the Ministry would ban in a heartbeat if they ever got a hold of it.” She gave him a stern look. “Do be sure to keep that out of sight. The shopkeeper did extensive background checks on us to ensure we aren't Ministry shills and made me swear a vow never to reveal the contents of that book, nor its location, to the British Ministry. I have to ask you for the same vow, too.”

Harry grimaced. “I swear upon my magic never to willingly reveal the information given in that book, nor its location, to anyone associated with the British Ministry. Is that good?”

“Yes, perfect.”

“So mote it be.” Golden light shone on their hearts and sealed the vow between them.

“Good.” Hermione tapped the cover. “Keep it well-hidden. It has charms to keep them from ever finding it, but I think he was right to be cautious. You know how the Ministry is about anyone different from them.”

Harry shuddered and tucked the book away under his mattress. “Understood.”

Hermione flopped on his bed and rummaged in her bag. “And now for the rest of your surprises. I brought you a yukata to start with—they’re a bit like robes. The Japanese wear them sometimes in the summer, especially wizards. I got one for Azrael too. They’re so comfortable—just wait until you try it. And I bought you both a pair of geta to match….”

* * *

Severus had worn his new yukata to visit Harry that night. Harry caught his breath at the sight of him, long hair tied back, strong chest and masculine fur poking out of the low collar, slim waist accented by the ties. He had left off his geta, but worn the socks with special toes Hermione had bought for them. Tabi socks, she had called them. They looked good on his slender feet with his long toes and strong ankles. With his wings and tail wrapped around him, Merlin, he was absolutely _stunning_. 

“Wow,” Harry whispered at the sight of him. “Just… _wow_.”

Severus’ cheeks flushed brilliant red, his ears lay back against his head, and his tail swung slowly back and forth, a slight motion that nonetheless communicated his delight. “O-oh. You are pleased?”

“Very.” Harry took one of Severus’ hands and smiled. “You’re gorgeous.”

Severus’ breath hitched and his fingers tightened convulsively on Harry’s own. “You… I… Merlin.”

Harry gave a soft chuckle and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s all right. I meant it.”

Severus ran his hand through Harry’s curly hair. “That much was obvious. I am only a bit surprised. I have told you before that I do not often hear such compliments.”

“Mm, yes, I remember.” Harry rested his head on Severus’ chest, breathing in his warm, masculine scent and fighting the temptation to pet his body hair. “I wasn’t expecting this much hair under the shirt.”

Severus shuddered. “Forgive me. I am—you know what I am, little one. It is… unusual for one such as myself not to have an abundance of body hair.”

Harry kissed his chest just above the edge of his collar, making Severus gasp. “Sorry, Severus. I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. I like it.”

“T-truly?”

“Yeah.” Harry lost the battle with his self-control and lightly ran his fingers through the soft curls on Severus’ chest. The yokai gasped and shivered at his touch. 

“H-Harry, that is not—I am your professor. Please.”

Harry desisted and moved back, his cheeks red. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. Are you okay?”

Severus sighed and tucked Harry back into his arms. “I… it is only that you are just sixteen, Harry. Please, do be careful, for all of our sakes.”

Harry wondered if Severus had implied he would be open to his advances once Harry reached adulthood. Merlin, it certainly sounded like it.

Still, perhaps he would do better not to press, not now, when an agreement between them—even one to wait—could hurt Severus. Best to keep his fancy under wraps until Harry was old enough to pursue him. At least it sounded as if he might have a chance with him one day, when Severus was ready. That was enough, for now.

Harry wasn’t ready either.

“I promise.” He rested his head on Severus’ shoulder. “I’ve missed this. Having you near me as yourself.”

“So have I.” Severus sighed into his hair. “I am uncertain it is wise to appear as I am before you when you are still having visions, but the headmaster assured me it would do me no harm.”

“How would he know?”

“I….” Severus shook his head. “I am unsure. I suspect he knows more about the link between you and the Dark Lord than he has said.”

“Should we ask him about it?”

“I have done. He asked me to wait. He said he wants to be sure about it and to help us first, and then he will talk to me. I… it unsettles me, to be honest. Why would he worry about keeping secrets if it were not bad news?”

Harry shuddered. “I don’t know. But a link to Riddle—that’s bad by default.”

“True.” Severus tugged Harry’s tee. “Go on to bed, little one. It is late.”

“In a minute.” Harry sat on the bed and pulled Severus down beside him. “Will you talk to me more first? You left off at the beginning of your OWL year.”

Severus sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I… if we must.”

“Sev, you don’t have to talk if it’s that bad. I just… I want to know more about you, and I want you to be okay.”

Severus sat beside Harry on the bed and curled his knees to his chest. “I think, as long as this war rages, I shan’t be okay. Perhaps none of us will be. But talking to you does help, so I will try.” He leaned his head against the headboard. “It was the year Lily and I began to fall apart.”

“What happened, Sev?”

“Potter happened. He had been jealous of my friendship with Lily since first year and wanted all of her affection for himself. Until fifth year, he attempted to sway her to his cause by alienating me in front of her. I suppose he assumed to harm my image would bolster his own in her eyes, but in fifth year, he _learned_.”

Harry gave Severus a wan smile. “Did he stop tormenting you then?”

Severus snorted bitterly. “Hardly. He stopped tormenting me where Lily could see and forced the others to comply. Instead, he waited until her back was turned and… in most cases, made sure to leave no evidence behind. And if Lily happened upon them in the middle of tormenting me, Potter pretended to have a change of heart and ‘stopped’ his friends. He then confessed to Lily that he was trying to change, but he never did.”

Harry winced. “He manipulated her.”

“Yes, I believe so. She did not always believe me when I told her of his tricks. Often, her words made me suspect Potter had manipulated her into mistrusting me, somehow.”

Harry scowled. “You were her best friend since she was nine, and she chose to believe the bully over you?”

Severus closed his eyes and laid his head on Harry’s shoulder. “She fancied him. I do not know how. She hated him as much as I did when we were young, but that year, she couldn’t stop nattering on about how wonderful he was in spite of his cruelty.” He turned into Harry’s shoulder with a little hitching breath. “I… did not take it well.”

“I reckon not. She was your best friend. It would be like if I suddenly decided I was madly in love with Black or Lupin.”

“Dear gods,” Severus said with a shudder. “ _Never_ suggest such things again.”

“Yeah, not my idea of a good time either.” Harry petted Severus’ soft ears and down his silky hair, soothing his friend. “I’m sorry, Sev. She should’ve stood by you.”

“Yes.” Severus’ hand tangled in the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt, over his heart. Harry laid his free hand over Severus’ fingers. “You… you will stand by me, won’t you?”

As much as it hurt when Severus asked questions like that, Harry understood by now that his fears came from trauma, from years and years of being hurt and abandoned. It wasn’t _Harry_ he didn’t trust—it was himself.

“Sev, I know what it means to be hurt and left alone.” He caressed Severus’ cheek, unsurprised to find it wet. “You’ve been my one real support and friend since I was a year old. Younger, though I didn’t know it. You’ve loved me my whole life, and I’ve loved you just as long.” He kissed Severus’ ear and smoothed it back, cradling Severus’ head against his shoulder. “I’m never going to abandon you. Never. I swear it.”

“I… I know.” Severus clutched Harry closer. “I am sorry, Harry, that my past makes me so fearful and insecure. You deserve my trust. You do have it, but I am failing you nonetheless.”

“You’re doing nothing of the sort. You’re sacrificing your safety and happiness to keep me safe from Riddle. You’re guarding me from Black and Lupin and anyone else who threatens me. You’ve kept me safe from my arsehole relatives for years. You’re not failing me, you’re risking everything to keep me happy and safe."

He petted Severus’ hair and ears, a gentle touch intended only to soothe him. “And I know you love me. It’s just that the inner core of you is hurt. You can’t believe I’ll stay, not because you don’t love me or think I’m trustworthy, but because everyone you’ve ever loved and trusted besides me has hurt you in some way or another, most of them terribly. I understand, Sev, and I don’t hold it against you.” 

Severus trembled against him and took a shaky breath. “I love you, Harry. And… I believe you. It is only so difficult to convince my head of what my heart knows to be true.”

Harry kissed the top of Severus’ head. “It’s okay. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe it, to believe you’re worth it.”

Severus lifted his head and cupped Harry’s face. “You may not be an angel, little one, but you have certainly saved my soul.” He kissed Harry’s forehead. “Thank you for being so faithful to me.”

“You deserve it, Sev.” Harry wrapped an arm around his waist and held him flush against his side. “Do you want to talk some more?”

“I think you can surmise what her sudden fancy did to our friendship. I felt betrayed, and she felt I was unsupportive of her.” Severus shuddered. “I only wanted to protect her. He was so cruel to me, I feared he would be cruel to her as well, but she had fixated upon him, and not even my love for her, nor the pain he caused me, was strong enough to break it.”

“Fixated….” Harry grimaced. “Sev, is it possible he dosed her with a potion?”

“Unlikely. The only type of potion that would produce such a realistic facsimile of love is Amortentia, and the school wards prohibit its use within the grounds. Lesser potions are not part of the wards, but only because their symptoms are too obvious to miss. And Lily did not act as one under a lesser potion might do.”

“Oh. What about spells?”

“There is no spell that can create realistic love. Amortentia is the only medium the world has for it, and as it is banned in nearly every developed country, Potter would have to have brewed it himself. He hadn’t the skill to manage such a difficult potion, and neither did any of his friends. Nor do I believe their cruelty stretches so far as to dose an innocent they had no grudge against with such an insidious brew.”

“Pettigrew produces the Brew of Ghouls regularly, and he’s evil enough to have done it.”

Severus frowned. “You make a good point, but then, there are still the wards to consider. Had anyone attempted to dose her, the wards would have neutralised the potion, petrified them, and alerted the headmaster.”

“What if they dosed her in Hogsmeade?”

“Ah… I suppose it is a possibility, but they would have had to _keep_ dosing her on a regular schedule, and I do not believe them capable.”

“A house elf might be.”

“Merlin.” Severus shuddered. “I… you may be right, Harry. I do not know.”

“And it’s no use trying to get the truth out of Black or Lupin.”

“They may not be aware of his misdeeds, even if they were not such pathetic, snivelling cowards.”

“True.” Harry stroked Severus’ side idly, thinking hard. He was on the verge of asking if Severus knew of a way to test for it when he realised what the answers to his question would cost his dearest friend. 

If Harry’s mum hadn’t been dosed, it meant she had left Severus of her own will and let him suffer out of sheer cruelty. It meant she had well and truly abandoned him and married his abuser.

If she _had_ been dosed, it meant that Severus might have spared himself decades of anguish and bitter despair, had he only known to give her an antidote. It meant his mum might never have been a target for Riddle. It meant he never would have reported the prophecy, because Severus would never have been a Death Eater.

Either way, the truth would break Severus’ heart.

Harry shook his head slightly and swallowed his questions. It didn’t matter in the long run. His parents were dead, and he was his own person. Knowing whether his mum had been at all redeemable might bring Harry some peace, but it wasn’t worth the cost.

And he had to face the reality that James mightn’t have needed to dose her. 

No. Their choices didn’t define him, so he didn’t need to know. Not if knowing would tear Severus to pieces either way.

“So what happened after she started fancying him, Sev? I can’t imagine you were happy about this.”

Severus sighed and turned his face into Harry’s shoulder. “Merlin, no. I felt… betrayed. I was angry with her. We bickered more that year than we had ever done, and it put a strain on our friendship, until it… broke. At the end of the year, she… it ended, and I was left utterly alone.”

“Oh, Sev. How? Why would she—was it the fighting?”

Severus winced. “In part. I am… not ready to speak of what tore us asunder, not yet.”

Harry smoothed his hand up and down Severus’ side. “Okay. Do you just want to leave it here for tonight then?”

Severus nodded and relaxed against Harry’s side. “That is acceptable. I do not believe I am able to bear further discussion tonight regardless.”

“All right. Just relax here against me for a minute then. Let me hold you so you know you’ve one friend who will _never_ leave you.”

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry, tucked him in his wings, and curled his tail around their legs. Harry petted his ears and held him tight, and so they sat, talking of simple things until the clock struck one. 

“We must sleep now, little one.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead. “Oyasumi nasai, my friend.”

“Oyasumi, Severus.”

Severus shifted into Xerxes and curled up on his perch. Harry petted him until the little crow drifted off under his touch, then, with a whisper of love to his friend, Harry went to bed and fell into dreams.

* * *

A week before classes began, Harry learned that Hermione and Ron had become prefects. He accepted it without a blink. They had fewer responsibilities than he did, and their extra authority, however small, would help keep him—and Severus—safe. 

The Order met again that evening. Lupin had yet to return from Germany, not that Harry minded, and Black hadn’t stopped sulking since Albus had laid down the law. Again, Harry didn’t mind. The stony silences and dark glares were a huge improvement over his typical antics. Let the prat sulk. 

No, he didn’t mind that the moronic mutts’ bad behaviour had finally been nipped in the bud. It was the rest of the meeting that left him unsettled and afraid. As he listened to the twins’ ear speaker, he paced and hoped this year wouldn’t be as bad as the last, though the more he heard, the less likely it seemed.

Dumbledore’s rumbling voice was grave. “What can you tell me about her, Arthur?”

Arthur’s voice came out in an uncertain tone. “I… I don’t know her well, Albus. We work in different departments. All I know of her is that she likes kittens to a point of obsession, she’s always in pink, and she gives off a feeling of… wrongness. I don’t know how else to describe it. Something in her aura, perhaps. I always feel cold and slimy after speaking to her.”

“With good reason,” said Bill with a growl. “The woman is _vile_. She detests creatures of any kind, including goblins and house elves, and she treats them as inferior and stupid. She’s not quite as obvious about her blood purism, but it’s clear enough to anyone with two brain cells to rub together. Worse, she’s absolutely _devious_ about both. She’s cold-blooded, Albus. This is not good news.”

“As I expected,” said Dumbledore with a sigh. “Every single year. Well, do you believe she will harm the students?”

Bill hesitated. “I can’t say for sure. Possibly. I would say that it depends on what her goals are and what kind of backup she has at the Ministry. It couldn’t hurt to warn our Order kids to play it safe around her, at least until we’re sure of what she’s up to.”

“We shall do so, then,” said McGonagall with a huff. “I already hate her.”

Severus snorted.

Dumbledore’s voice came out soft and worried. “Severus, do you have anything to add?”

“Only that you should be quite sure that Potter knows not to provoke her. Whatever her endgame is, we know her goals involve discrediting you and Potter, and we are all aware of his… defiant streak. You will need to be… convincing to prevent a catastrophe.”

Under the snark and posturing Severus had to present to keep his cover, Harry heard the warning loud and clear.

“That’s just not on,” Ginny started, but Harry shushed her.

“Listen.”

“—is a good boy,” Professor McGonagall was saying, “but I will take your warning under advisement.”

After a brief pause, Dumbledore resumed. “Is there anything else of note?”

Silence. 

“Then we shall adjourn for now. Do be careful until we meet again.”

The twins pulled the plug and gave Harry a worried look. 

George said, “This Umbridge character has it in for you too?”

Fred huffed. “You just can’t catch a break, can you, Harry?”

“Well, I reckon he catches plenty of broken arms.” George wobbled his arm about in imitation of Lockhart’s disaster in second year.

“Maybe a broken leg or two.”

“The occasional broken dignity.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, sounds about right.”


	18. The Seer's Secrets

#  **Chapter 18**

##  _The Seer's Secrets_

###  _1 SEPTEMBER, 1996_

As it turned out, the horseless carriages weren’t horseless after all. Harry stared at the skeletal beings at the front of one, shaking all over and ready to bolt. “Why… what _are_ those things and why are they here? Did the magic on the carriages wear off or something?”

Hermione gave him a worried look. “What things, Harry?”

“ _Those things_.” Harry jabbed a finger in their general direction, though he feared to come too close. Those beaks looked vicious, and Merlin knew what kind of magic they might have if frightened. “The… giant skeleton-winged-horse things pulling the carts.”

Hermione blinked. “Er… _what_ horse things? Harry, are you sure you’re well?”

“You… you don’t see them?”

“Of course not. They’re the same carriages we always ride.”

“O-oh.”

An ethereal voice called out from behind the horse nearest Harry. “She’s right, you know. They’ve always been here.”

Luna. Harry’s rapid pulse began to slow. 

“Oh. So we just couldn’t see them until now? Or rather, I couldn’t?”

“Yes, precisely.” Luna stepped out of the trees and petted one of the horses’ fetlocks. “There now. Harry’s only a bit surprised. He won’t hurt you.”

The horse-thing whickered and rubbed his head into Luna’s hand. 

“You… can pet them?”

“Yes, of course, so long as you’re gentle and slow. They’re much like horses, you know. A bit skittish, but gentle. Only they eat meat, but they won’t attack a human. They’re scavengers, for the most part.”

Harry cautiously stepped towards the being Luna was petting. 

“Here.” Luna took Harry’s hand and guided it to the horse’s withers. “There you are. They feel different, don’t they?”

“Well, I’ve never seen a horse either, but he feels leathery.”

“Yes.”

“Luna, what _are_ they?”

“Thestrals. They’re beings associated with death. You can’t see them or hear them unless you’ve witnessed someone die.”

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in sharply, grief assaulting him anew. “C-Cedric. I can see them because of Cedric.”

“Yes.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry. This kind of grief is perfectly normal for what you are. Life is precious to you.” She added in a careful whisper, “And your kin.”

Harry froze. “What? But all my kin were, and are, absolute monsters.”

She shook her head wryly. “Not that kind of kin.”

Harry cocked his head. “Er… what do you mean?”

She peered over at Harry’s bemused friends, and a silencing field surrounded them. “We all have secrets, Harry. I, for example, share the same secret as your best friend. The secret we can’t ever let the Ministry know. And you… you have secrets of your own.”

Harry gasped and reeled. Yokai. She was a yokai. And was she saying…?

“Luna… am I—?”

“We’ll talk later, Harry. The thestrals will want dinner soon.”

“R-right.” 

Harry had no idea if the strange beings were actually hungry or if Luna was attempting to shield them both from those who might hurt them if they knew the truth, but he let the conversation drop, just in case. Who knew who might be watching out here, and silencing fields didn’t stop people who could read lips. Severus had taught Harry that skill long ago for that very reason.

What _was_ Harry’s truth anyway? Severus had said yokai received their inheritance young, and Harry had never seen any sign of a supernatural nature….

Unless… perhaps the unusual strength of his attachment to life, his skill with the elements, and his unique healing powers indicated more than a human skillset. 

Coldness washed over him. Dear gods. If he wasn’t human, he had best _keep_ his secrets. He mightn’t be a yokai, but yokai weren’t the only beings the Ministry hunted like animals.

“Right,” he said again, his voice grim. “I think I understand. At least a little.”

“You will know soon.” Luna nodded towards the others. “We should join them now.”

“Yeah.” Harry gave her a wan smile. “Luna? I’ll keep your secrets.”

“I know.”

With that, she skipped away and seated herself in the carriage. Harry’s friends followed, their expressions full of worry and confusion.

“Mate,” said Ron, “do you have any idea what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” But Harry felt as though his entire world had just been turned upside-down. Still, to reveal it here was more than his life was worth. Particularly when they were headed into a year with the most anti-creature bitch in the Ministry as his defence professor. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, mate. Luna was just telling me about the thestrals. Surprised me a bit, but it’s nothing to worry over.”

Luna gave him an encouraging smile and pulled out her Quibbler and spectrespecs.

* * *

Well, after hearing Umbridge’s ‘speech’ at the welcoming feast, Harry’s determination to keep his possible creature heritage silent doubled. Clearly, the woman was sheer evil. And she had it in for anyone with ‘impure’ blood. Muggleborns, too. 

Foul, toad-faced bitch. As far as Harry was concerned, the curse couldn’t take her away from Hogwarts soon enough.

Halfway to his dormitory, Luna met him in the halls and waved him over. “Harry, would you like to have a little chat?”

Harry understood her implied meaning. “Do you know of a place we can go?”

“Sure. I think you’ll have need of it soon anyway.”

“Oh. Well, lead on, then.”

Luna nodded and led Harry to the seventh floor and the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. “Sit tight a moment.” 

Harry stood by and watched as she paced three times in front of the wall opposite the tapestry. When she had finished her third circuit, a wooden door with designs formed by flowers and ivy appeared in the wall. Harry gaped and reeled back a step.

“Oi, watch yourself, young man,” the tapestry snapped. “We’re _trying_ to have a rehearsal here.”

The trolls stared, expressions blank. By the fact that at least three had a finger up their noses and another was scratching their bum under the tutu, Harry doubted the barmy wizard’s work would bear much fruit no matter how often they rehearsed. 

“Er, sorry, sorry.” He moved to Luna’s side, eyes wide with surprise. “Luna, where are we?”

“I’ll tell you inside. You’ll have to let me in. Just press your palm to the wood, and it should open for you, unless I’m gravely mistaken.”

Harry had never known her to be mistaken. Strange, but never _wrong_. And now that he knew what she was, he had the feeling even her strangeness wasn’t as odd as the rest of the world thought. 

With a deep breath, he pressed his palm to the wood as directed. It warmed under his hand, and a breath of fresh spring air wafted all around him. Pink petals blew in the zephyr, but faded before they hit the ground, leaving no trail behind. Harry’s hand glowed green, then white, then the door opened.

“Ah,” Luna said in a satisfied tone, “as I thought. Go on, Harry. It’s all right.”

Harry swallowed hard and stepped inside. He found himself in a forested glade with rings of mushrooms all around and seats carved of stone with mossy cushions. He sensed strange magic on the rings and went to touch one, but Luna tugged him back.

“Unless you’ve a mind to be transported elsewhere, I would stay well away from the rings.”

Harry grimaced and drew back. “Right. We’ll just sit, then? That _is_ safe, isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Luna perched in the seat nearest them and waved Harry into the one opposite. She shut the door with a flick of her wrist, and the next instant, it vanished, leaving nothing but an empty archway in the middle of a wooded glade.

“W-wait! How do we get out of here—oh.” As soon as Harry spoke, the door reappeared.

Luna chuckled. “This room responds to thought, but as I’m trying to keep us safe, will you let me hide the door this time, please?”

Harry nodded, willing it to hide itself, and it vanished again. “Wicked! What _is_ this place?”

Luna hesitated. “Technically, we are in a place within a place. This forest is part of the Ways. Only one of your kin can open it, but we are also, at present, in a version of the Ways contained within a magical room. This room is known among the humans and beings—besides the house elves, who have another name for it—as the Room of Requirement. It is so called because if you pace the entryway out there three times whilst focusing on what you need, it will open to you and become whatever you wish it to be. Its only limitation is that it cannot produce food, but as you can do so, that shouldn’t be a problem for us.”

“Oh. I reckon this place would come in dead handy, then.” Harry paused, finally parsing the entirety of her statement. “Wait. We can’t create food from nothing.”

“ _I_ can’t, nor can most of the school, but you can.”

The hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stood on end. “I-I’m not human, am I?”

Luna closed her eyes. “I think you already know. But as to what you are, don’t ask me. It’s forbidden to speak of it until the Keeper of the Ways tells you herself. She will begin to call to you soon, I think. I already sense her power near.”

Harry trembled. “The… Keeper of the Ways?”

“Another secret I’m forbidden to speak of. I can only tell you this much because I’m not human myself, and my kind are given… charge, so to speak, to guide the other being races to fate, however it may choose to meet them.”

“Wait. If you’re a guide, why can you not tell me? Wouldn’t it make sense that you’d be able to?”

Luna chuckled. “It would do, if the telling of your secrets didn’t come with power. I lack the ability to grant it to you, and should I tell you before the Keeper herself does, then I would render you weak and damage you forever. And you should be careful how much of this you say to the professor before she speaks to you. He may know the signs. It’s for the best that he doesn’t learn the full truth until you do, for both of your sakes. It’s a crime against life to reveal your truths without her consent, and such crimes come with dire consequences.”

“ _Merlin_.” He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest. “I reckon it’s best to keep it a secret then.”

“Yes indeed, but I can tell you my secrets without trouble.”

“Er… if you want to.” Harry frowned and looked her over. “You’re not dark. I can’t sense a grain of darkness on you, and I never have done.”

“No. I am an Amabie. We are mermaids, after a fashion, and seers, but we are not dark. We are simply guides and water mages, not that the Ministry or public at large understands that.” She cocked her head. “Would you like to see?”

Harry nodded cautiously. “If… if it’s not rude to ask. Or too dangerous.”

“You know how to keep secrets now. I could not show you until you learned, but I sense your mind has closed to those who would tear the truth of me from your thoughts.”

“Occlumency. Yes, I learned over the summer. Took me over a year, but I finally got it a week before my birthday.”

“Yes. Your powers are strengthening as your apex approaches. You must soon take care to hide your power from those who would fear it, especially the pink toady.”

Harry snickered. “Good name for her, that.” He gave Luna a hesitant smile. “If you really don’t mind showing me, I’d like to see what you really are.”

Luna nodded and smiled back. “You are a friend of yokai. I know I can trust you with my secrets.” 

She closed her eyes as pale blue light covered her body. It put Harry in mind of shallow water. When it cleared, a golden-haired mermaid sat opposite him on an ocean rock. A small cove had formed in the middle of the wood, and Luna’s silvery-blue fish tail floated in its depths. Her scales stretched in diamond patterns up her belly, ending just under her ribs. A fan of flowing fins floated gracefully around her tail, putting Harry in mind of a silver betta fish. Her hair draped over her bare breasts and seashell bracelets and necklaces decorated her body. Her face looked much as Harry knew it, but for the blue eye marking in the centre of her forehead and the fin-like ears at the sides of her face.

“Merlin. You’re _lovely_ , Luna. Your fins are gorgeous.”

She blushed and gave a bell-like laugh, still in her familiar dreamy tones. “Why, thank you. You are the first human besides father to ever see me for what I am. And you will, most likely, be the last until I find a mate of my own.”

Harry nodded and blushed. “I… I’m sure you already know, but I can’t—I’m not—I’m gay, Luna. And if I wasn’t still a teenager, I’d be interested in Severus.” He flushed deeper. “I-I think he feels the same way, though he won’t act on it until I’m an adult, of course.”

She gave him a grim smile. “That will happen sooner than either of you think. And it will make matters difficult for you until you are seen as an adult by the humans, too.” She patted his hand. “But you’ll pull through. I know you will.”

“Well, coming from you, that’s a comfort.”

“Yes. And I knew you were gay before you did.”

Harry snorted. “I don’t doubt it.” He looked at her tail and frowned. “Luna, how do you walk? Do you just take a human shape? Sev has glamours that hide his traits. What do you do?”

“Amabies have human bodies, or rather, legs we can use to walk the human realm where necessary. We could not very well perform as guides if we could not reach our charges.” She covered herself in that same watery light, and her form shifted to reveal the same mermaid, only with legs instead of a tail. Her fins draped over her hips like a skirt, showing bare, silver-scaled feet underneath. “And yes, we use glamours too.”

“Ah, I see. That’s pretty too, Luna.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a warm smile. “When you transform at last, you’ll be rather lovely yourself, I think. I am looking forward to it.”

Harry gulped. “Right. And when can I expect this to happen?”

“I cannot say precisely—I don’t know—but it won’t be long, I think. Most likely before the end of this year at Hogwarts. The mark of the change is already upon you. Simply keep your eyes open, Harry. The Keeper of the Ways will find you soon.”

Harry nodded and tugged his knees to his chest. “We’re all going to have to be very careful this year. That woman—she’ll exterminate us in a heartbeat if she ever finds out. And worse, the public would support her.”

“Yes.” Luna shuddered. “ Fates help us all if she, or her replacement, should ever learn the truth.”

“Yeah—wait, her replacement?”

“You will see, in time.” Luna shook her head and stood, reapplying her human glamours. “On this note, I think we must return to the dorms as soon as possible. She could not enter this place—nor should you ever bring a pure human here, though your professor will be allowed after the Keeper of the Ways speaks to you and teaches you about your race—but should she see the both of us leaving a place she cannot enter, then suspicion will abound.”

Harry shuddered and stood. “Right. Goodnight then, Luna. Go on ahead. I’ll wait a few minutes and leave after you. Is there anything I need to do to make this place disappear?”

“As soon as you leave the room, it will return to its blank state. No one knows what that is, but at any rate, it won’t leave clues behind once we’re outside of its walls.”

“Good to know. Hurry on, Lu. I’ll be okay.”

“Yes. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Oyasumi, Luna.”

She smiled. “The professor is teaching you more than occlumency, I see. Good. It will serve you well, one day.”

Harry smiled. “I hope so, but go on.”

“Yes. Oyasumi, Harry. Oh, and feel free to speak of my true nature with your professor and the headmaster, so long as you’re careful that no one else overhears. They already know.” With a little wave, Luna walked from the room, leaving a stunned Harry behind. 

“Not human… Keeper of the Ways… gods. I just can’t have _one_ normal year, can I?” With a sigh, Harry walked to the door and leaned against the frame. Apparently, normal was beyond his reach.

* * *

Harry didn’t have time to meet Severus that night—the discussion with Luna put him too close to curfew, and with Umbridge prowling about, he thought sneaking out after it to be a foolish risk. Instead, he used the night to consider what Luna had told him and if he should tell Severus and Albus anything at all. It was a risk to speak of it, but perhaps a greater one not to. 

In the end, he decided that he couldn’t stay entirely mum. Both men already knew he wasn’t using wizarding magic. They _would_ work out the truth of his race eventually, and if they didn’t know to keep it quiet, the consequences would be dire.

Resolved, Harry returned his attention to his coursework. He sat through defence with the toad and did his best not to draw her eye. Wands away, indeed. The bitch didn’t want them learning to fight, didn’t want to teach them to stop her anti-pureblood agenda, and Fudge didn’t want them preparing for war.

Under that horrid hag, they would learn nothing. 

And it was OWLs year too. Harry didn’t care about the tests as much as Hermione, but Severus wouldn’t be pleased if he didn’t do well, and keeping Severus happy had fast become the most important goal of Harry’s life. Even defeating Riddle came second. He wanted to fight Riddle not simply because the bastard needed to die, but because Severus would never truly be free until Voldemort was in the ground—for good this time. And, even if they never worked out romantically, Harry ached to set his dearest friend free. 

 _‘One day,’_ he vowed to himself. _‘One day, I’ll end this mess. I promise, Sev.’_

He would keep it, too, but to do that, he would first have to learn to fight, and he couldn’t hope to do it alone. To that end, he needed his friends to be strong. They had to learn to defend themselves. In three years, Harry would be out of Hogwarts. It would be immensely harder to train his friends when they all had separate lives and separate homes. He had to take advantage of the short time they had together before graduation. He could train them—at least, he could teach them to stay alive. And if Severus could come to help as Azrael, they might have a chance to win.

Yes. It was time for more than one of Harry’s secrets to come to light. 

With that thought in mind, he turned his ring once and focused on his defence work. He would use the ‘class’ to brush up on theory and train the others by night. The room Luna had shown him the night before would come in handy sooner than Harry had thought.

After that sham of a class, Harry listened to his friends grumble about Umbridge all the way to Charms. Merlin knew they had a point. The woman _was_ horrid, but he refused to let her irritate him. He had plans.

“Oi,” Harry muttered to his friends. “Listen, you two. I know she’s bloody awful—what else could you expect of a Fudge-approved Ministry shill—but don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’ve an idea to help us. We can’t discuss it here or anywhere the hag could overhear, but try not to be too angry, okay? It’s not even just that we need to be extra careful, but if you get too angry, you’re more likely to lash out in return. And then she’s got an excuse to nail our arses to the wall. Just let it go for now. It’s going to be okay.”

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You… you’re right. Sorry, Harry. She’s just so _vile_.”

“To be fair, she didn’t do anything yet but tell us to read for the first lesson.”

“But we all know what it means,” Ron said with a scowl.

“Yeah, we do. But don’t forget, we have… _resources_ that she doesn’t know of.”

Ron’s fists unclenched and the reddish tinge drained from his cheeks. “Right. You’re right, mate. We’ll keep a lid on our tempers, don’t you worry. For now, we’d best just focus on our proper lessons and preparing for… the truth.”

“Exactly.”

Harry spent the rest of the day considering how to broach the topic of training with his friends and how to reveal what he knew of the Room without revealing either himself or Luna. Everything he thought of would get one or the other—or both of them—in potential trouble. Trouble that meant their necks should Umbridge get wind of it. 

His friends already knew Luna was a seer, so they might accept that her sight had led her to it, but Harry couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want to associate Luna with finding the room at all, just in case. But as he couldn’t think of any other reasonable excuse besides, ‘Hey, you lot, look what I just magically stumbled into the other day,’ he had no safe way to tell them about it.

Damn. He’d just have to pretend as if he didn’t know about the Room for now, at least until he managed to come up with some kind of plan. There _had_ to be a way to do it, but he couldn’t think of anything while in Charms. The fact that his stomach seemed intent on eating itself didn’t help either. He leaned his chin on his hand and tried to focus on shield charms, but a sharp hunger pang shot through his belly and distracted him again. 

Gods, being a teenager was annoying as hell. Always in a strange mood, forever having… _intense_ dreams of a man he couldn’t touch yet, and perpetually struggling to hide random erections popping up at the strangest times or trying in vain to fill his black hole of a stomach. The growing pains sucked, too, but at the moment, his empty belly had taken over his attention span. 

Merlin, it was a shame he couldn’t ask Dobby to bring him a sandwich in the middle of class. Or that he couldn’t create it without—wait.

_“…Besides the house elves, who call this place by another name….”_

The house elves. They knew of the room. All Harry had to do was ask Dobby to ‘show’ him a safe place to meet where Umbridge would never find them or overhear, and he had an ironclad alibi. 

He smiled to himself and, for the first time ever, thanked Merlin for his empty stomach.

******

That evening, Severus responded to Harry’s request for a meeting as Xerxes, but instead of leading him to the man’s office or an empty classroom as Severus had come to expect, Harry went to the headmaster’s tower and reeled off names of various sweets until the door let him in. Severus made a mental note to simply tell Harry every time the password changed from then on. It would save time in the event of an emergency, and the boy already knew Albus’ tricks regardless. It wasn’t as if the old man made his passwords hard to guess.

At Albus’ call, Harry walked inside, Severus sitting in crow form on his shoulder. “Sir, are you busy? I need… well, a bit of your time tonight. It’s important.”

Albus gave Harry a worried look. “Has Dolores already harmed you, child?”

Harry shook his head. “She’s content to have us read pacifist defence theory without actually teaching anything useful. She wants us helpless.”

“She has a surprise coming in you then,” said Albus with a chuckle. 

Harry snorted. “As it happens, that’s part of what I want to talk to you about, but….” He looked to the portraits and shivered. “Sir, the rest of it—it’s _definitely_ a conversation for upstairs. Please.”

Severus’ mewl of worry came out in a warbling sort of caw. His shudder translated to a ruffle of his feathers and tightening of his talons on Harry’s shoulder. Merlin, what on earth was wrong? Surely they hadn’t run into another catastrophe _already_. The students had barely made it through the first day of classes.

He held onto Harry’s shoulder until Albus’ living room door shut behind them. 

“Ward it, please,” Harry said in grim tones. “Even stronger than usual. As strongly as you can. This is life or death—for all three of us—and I don’t trust our safety with that Ministry bint here.”

_‘Shite.’_

Severus leapt from Harry’s shoulder, taking his human form before he hit the ground. His wings helped him balance, and he landed smoothly in front of his friend. 

“Merlin, Harry, what on earth is wrong?”

Harry shuddered. “Please. Trust me. Ward it first.”

Albus squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “If you believe it needs the highest protection I can offer, then I shall oblige. Severus, perhaps you might aid me? Unless you are too distraught?”

Severus swallowed hard and held Harry’s face. “Tell me this first, Harry. Are you in danger?”

Harry gave a bitter laugh. “The Ministry is trying to take over Hogwarts and cover up the fact that Riddle’s alive and after me, as well as most of the population, again. Of _course_ I’m in danger—we all are.” He sighed and leaned into Severus’ hand. “But so long as you’re careful to listen to every word I have to say before you speak, I’m not in any trouble that’s going to threaten me immediately.”

Severus smoothed Harry’s hair and searched his eyes. “You are certain?”

“Yes. Luna talked to me last night, and I have news that could threaten me, but as long as you don’t speak before I’m done, I should be okay. _Promise me_. It’s not just my life that’s riding on your silence.”

Severus shuddered at the foreboding in his tone. “I so swear.”

“As do I,” Albus agreed. “Now, let us ward the rooms, and we shall talk. I think a good strong pot of tea will be necessary for this conversation.”

“Preferably the kind with whiskey added,” said Harry with a shiver.

Albus chuckled. “Perhaps when you are of legal age to drink it. For now, tea and calming draught will have to suffice.”

“Yes, sir, but perhaps we might skip the tea altogether this once, if you don’t mind? We don’t have a lot of time with that hag running amuck.”

“All too true, I’m afraid. Severus, are you ready?”

Severus took in his friend’s expression one last time, then turned to help Albus strengthen his wards. By the time they finished—and especially with the added benefit of Harry’s wandless magic, his own yokai and angelic strength, and the sheer power of Albus’ core—Severus doubted anything could penetrate those walls without the owner’s consent.

“Now,” said Albus, a little winded, “these rooms are as secure as we can make them, Harry. Will you tell us what you learned last night?”

“Yes, but remember what I said.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t tell you everything. I don’t know everything, and the thing is, I _can’t_ know it. Not yet. If anyone tells me before a certain person does, when it’s time for it, then I’ll spend the rest of my life weak and in pain, and the person who speaks out of turn will face dire consequences. Please. Just don’t say a word until I tell you.”

“You have our vows,” Albus said with a grave nod.

“Y-yes,” Severus agreed, his mind racing. What danger could possibly threaten Harry simply by the knowledge of it? “But please, do hurry. I am frightened for you.”

“I’m okay, Sev, so long as my secrets stay secret.” Harry took a deep breath and blew it out in a long stream. “Right. So, first off, I’m not human either. I don’t know what I am—that’s the secret that will damage me if you speak too soon, so _don’t say a word_ —but Luna… well, she told me a lot last night. I can’t give the two of you much to go on. Like I said, if you find out before I do and let the information slip, I’m screwed and so are you. Even if you know what I am, for Merlin’s sake, _don’t tell me_.”

Severus had a thousand questions, none of which he could safely ask. Not human? What did that mean? And the secret of Harry’s race would permanently damage him if it slipped too soon? Dear gods. They would have to guard his powers and odd abilities with even greater fervour now. Especially with Umbridge in the castle.

“That’s the most dangerous part out of the way,” said Harry with a shiver. “Just, even if you work out what I am before she tells me, keep it to yourself for everyone’s sake. Please.”

_She? Who is she?_

“Right,” Harry said with a sigh. “You understand? You won’t tell me what I am even if you might already know?”

Albus gave a grave nod, and Severus did as well. Of course he wouldn’t bloody tell him, not if it would hurt the boy, but _fuck_. What in Merlin’s name kind of race could be damaged just by stumbling upon the premature knowledge of what they were?

“For that reason,” Harry said with a shiver, “I’m not going to go hunting for information about it either. Merlin forbid I find the answer by accident. And I’m going to beg you, that if you _must_ research it, please, never do so if I’m present.”

Albus and Severus nodded their consent again.

Harry sighed and flopped onto the sofa beside Severus. He was cold and shaking, and Severus wrapped him in his arms and wings.

“That’s all right then,” Harry said with a sigh. “You can talk now. Just… not about that.”

Albus gave him a speculative look. “Harry, is there anything that Luna shared with you that you are safely able to repeat? Please, do not risk yourself, but it is our responsibility to keep you safe. If we need to make special arrangements—did she say anything along those lines?”

Harry shook his head. “She said the—um… I don’t think I can say her name—the person who will teach me the truth and unlock my powers will find me when it’s time. I don’t think we need to do anything.” He closed his eyes. “But… Sev, I might need to know your glamours. I mean, how to cast them. Just in case.”

Severus froze. “Harry, I… Merlin, nothing I can say here will keep you safe.” He sighed. “The spells only work on yokai, my class in particular.”

“Oh. Well, never mind then. I’m definitely not a yokai, nor an angel, but I don’t know _what_ I am, and it had best stay that way for everyone’s sake. At least until she’s ready.”

“I swear it, little one.” Severus kissed Harry’s hair. “I cannot deny that I am curious, but I would never endanger you. And, the truth of the matter is that I do not know what you are either. There is… a verse I remember from somewhere, or perhaps a passage in a book, that mentions your talents and other traits I will not go into for your sake, but I do not recall which book or what it refers to. I do swear though, that if I should ever recall what it is before you tell me of your race yourself, then I will never so much as hint at it to anyone but Albus and Salazar. You especially.”

Albus gave Severus a curious look. “Salazar?”

“Yes. I spoke to him of Harry after it became apparent that the Ministry cannot track his wandless magic. Salazar is positive now that Harry is his heir, his great-grandson, we think, and he also warned me not to question you too much on your potential race, Harry.”

Harry shuddered. “So he knows.”

“I believe so, but he will never reveal it, and neither will I.”

Harry sighed and turned his face into Severus’ shoulder. He had to lean to do it, too. Merlin, the boy was growing fast. He would be tall when he reached his full height. Possibly as tall as Severus himself. 

“I knew you wouldn’t, really,” Harry murmured, his voice shaky with relief. “I just had to make sure you understood the danger.”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair and wondered how it would change when his true features showed. What else might change? Would he gain wings, as Severus suspected? He would make a perfect mate for a flying yokai if he could fly as well.

“Sev,” Harry murmured, “there is _one_ thing you need to know. Luna said this… thing with the lady who’ll tell me what I am, it’s going to happen soon. She couldn’t tell me how soon—she doesn’t know herself—but she thinks we’re talking before the end of the year. Before my seventeenth birthday, I’m almost certain of it, too. And the thing is, when that happens, I’ll be a _magical_ adult, even if I’m not physically eighteen yet.” He shivered. “She said it would cause me problems, but also that I’d pull through. Do you have any idea what she means? Can you tell me without hurting me?”

Severus ran his hand through Harry’s hair and hoped it soothed the frightened boy. “I… I am not sure, Harry. There is one possibility, but I do not know if it applies to you or not, and to tell you may lead you to answers about your race before this… being is prepared to reveal it.”

“I’m not going to search for answers.”

“No, but if someone discusses the trait I am thinking of in your hearing, you may still work it out for yourself regardless.”

Harry shuddered. “In that case, just keep it secret and we’ll deal with it when we come to it.”

“Yes.” Severus tipped Harry’s chin up. “Whatever happens, Albus and I will protect you and help you survive. You will not face your future alone.”

Harry gave him a shy smile, cheeks pink and eyes soft. “I’m glad.”

Severus understood what wasn’t being said, what Harry _couldn’t_ say yet, and shivered. A trickle of hope flooded his heart at the same time cold dread coiled in his belly. He had a fair idea what trouble Luna had meant would come Harry’s way come the time of his magical maturation—many races pined when they could not bond with their mate right away. He had the feeling Harry would be one of them. 

Severus traced his thumb across the ridge of Harry’s cheekbone. “I swear, I will take care of you.” It was all he could promise, that he would keep Harry from too much pain while they waited for his physical body—and human-apparent age—to catch up with his magical race, but he would keep it. He would keep Harry healthy, whether his suspicions proved true or not. 

Harry closed his eyes and leaned into Severus’ hands. His breath rushed against them, then he pulled away, though it looked as though it had taken all his effort. His red cheeks and the way he shifted his legs subtly let Severus know what had happened. Oh, the joys of being a teenager. He gave the young man a smile full of understanding and acceptance and turned back to Albus. 

“So… Harry is not human either. Merlin, Albus. How on _earth_ are we to keep this quiet? Particularly when Madam Toadface is here, and her aversion to all things non-pureblood is so obvious, even Vincent and Gregory worked it out before they had known her two minutes. Add to that she is already looking for reasons to take Harry down and the Ministry is no longer taking your word as law, and we have a recipe for disaster on our hands.”

“That’s not the only problem,” Harry said, his voice grim. “It’s not just me you need to worry about. We’re in a war. I know it, you know it, and Ron and Hermione understand a little through my experiences, but the rest of them are oblivious. They have no idea what’s going on, especially since the Ministry is doing everything they can to make me out to be a liar and pretend Cedric cursed himself to death.” The boy paused, face twisting with grief, but he pushed it aside the next moment. 

“And not a one of them but Ron and Hermione knows how to fight, and even Ron and Hermione aren’t up to my standard. Not even close, plus Ron still needs help with his leg. None of them know how to fight against Death Eaters or even defend themselves. None of them even know how to _escape_ a dangerous situation. And the Pink Toady sure as hell isn’t going to teach us, so we can’t afford to sit around and wait any longer. Riddle is already here and recruiting as we speak. We have to be ready to fight.”

He sat taller and, in that instant, Severus saw him for the hero he was, for the brave soldier he had become. “And, to that end, I think Azrael and I should train them. All of them, or as many as we can safely manage without the toad finding out.”

Albus winced. “Harry, that is a tall order. I, of course, agree that the students must be taught to defend themselves at the least, and I am sure Azrael would agree to help however he is able, but where could we train so many without drawing Madam Umbridge’s notice? And when?”

Harry smirked, an expression that put Severus strongly in mind of the Weasley twins. “As it happens, sir, I have an answer to both of your questions….”


	19. Harry Potter and the Pink Toady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I reiterate, I _loathe_ writing Umbridge. Even Voldy is less annoying.

#  **Chapter 19**

##  _Harry Potter and the Pink Toady_

### 3 SEPTEMBER, 1996

Harry peered at the portrait on Severus' mantle and grinned. "Well, I guess we know why I look so much like you now, yeah, Grandpa?"

Salazar chuckled. "I am offended that you were not sorted into my house, child."

Harry blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Er… about that. I would've been, but Draco Malfoy was horrid to Ron on the train, and then Hagrid told me that Riddle was a Slytherin and made it sound like no dark wizard ever came from another house, and I know it's rubbish now, but I didn't know then, and—"

"Harry. You're babbling, little one."

"Right. Well, I hadn't a good impression of Slytherins when the hat went on, because I didn't know Sev was the head yet, and…." He coughed and rubbed his toe in the carpet. "I may or may not have asked the hat to put me somewhere else."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "You asked the hat…?"

Severus, lounging on the sofa nearby, turned a page in his book. "I believe the term 'begged' is more appropriate."

" _Sev_!"

Salazar smirked. "Let me see if I have this straight. My dear, beloved great-grandson felt it necessary to avoid being sorted as one of my own."

Harry winced. "Well, I know better _now_ , but…."

"So, when the time came to be sorted, you begged the hat to be placed elsewhere…."

Harry flushed. "Er… yeah. See, I thought the Slytherins might hurt me if I went there, given how I 'killed' Riddle and the supposed heir, so I told it I wouldn't be safe there. Which was probably true, but…."

"So you begged the hat to place you anywhere else… and you _succeeded_."

"Well… yes. Sorry, Grandfather."

"I am not."

Harry gaped. "You aren't?"

Salazar grinned. "No. You outfoxed a magical object designed to place students where they belong regardless of their desires. That was a quintessential Slytherin move. Well done."

Harry stared, gobsmacked. "But… I… _really_?"

Severus chuckled. "I have long since thought you belong more with the snakes than the lions, excepting only your penchant for landing yourself in dangerous situations."

"Those aren't my fault, Sev. Danger follows me around like a puppy."

"Well then, if your only Gryffindor trait is an accident of fate, I think we may safely say you belong to us."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Says the man who just cornered me into saying precisely what he wanted me to say."

"And the Gryffindor who recognised the trap."

Harry laughed. "All right, I give up." He gave Severus a shy smile. "I belong to you."

Severus froze and swallowed hard. "I… Merlin."

"Your little snake in the lion's den outfoxed you this time, Severus," said Salazar with a grin.

Harry smirked. "Ten points to Slytherin! I think."

Salazar laughed. "Visit more often, little one. I rather enjoy seeing Severus turn that shade of red."

"Merlin help me," Severus said with a groan. "I've created a monster."

Harry laughed and snuggled into his side. "Your monster."

Severus chuckled and draped his arm over Harry's shoulder. "Indeed."

* * *

While Harry did his best not to draw the Umbitch’s notice in class or out of it, the same couldn’t be said for his peers. Ron and Hermione knew to keep their mouths shut, and Dean and Neville stayed quiet out of respect and worry for Harry, but Seamus believed neither Harry nor any of his other dormmates concerning Riddle’s return. He had taken an antagonistic stance against them at the start of the year, and, as a result, the boy’s patience with Toadface’s ‘lessons’ soon ran out.

Seamus’ hand shot up as soon as the woman said, ‘Wands away.’ Hardly necessary by this point, as the rest of the class had already gotten the picture that they wouldn’t learn anything of use under the cow. 

Umbridge gave that annoying _hem-hem_ and turned to Seamus with a honeyed smile a blind man could have seen through. “Yes, Mister Finnigan? Is there a problem with your text?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Seamus replied, voice sharp, “the fact that we’re using them, again, when we’ve been studying theory for _weeks_ now. Are we to learn any _practical_ defence in this class then?”

Umbridge laughed, a high, tinny sound that set the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck rising. “Practical defence? No, no. As long as you understand the theory, there’s no need to practise the spells.”

Harry barely suppressed a snort. Bollocks. Theory was all well and good, and knowing it _did_ make the learning process easier, but to assume someone could cast a spell correctly on the first try—especially in a life-or-death situation—was foolish to the extreme. Besides incantations and theory, one also had to learn wand movements, stances, and power adjustments, none of which could be taught in a book. 

Seamus, unfortunately, didn’t manage to hold his tongue. “That’s rot. We can’t just _read_ about spells and expect to be able to cast them properly. That’s not how it works.”

“Why should you have need to cast them at all?” Umbridge smiled, and the sight left Harry cold inside. “The world is at peace. There is no need to learn defensive magic in a quiet society. A _civilised_ society.” She fixed her eyes on Harry. “Isn’t that right, Mister Potter?”

Harry looked away and said nothing. He had no intention of provoking her, but he wouldn’t play the Ministry’s mind games either.

“I asked you a question, Mister Potter.”

Again, he pretended not to have heard.

“ _Answer me this instant_.”

So the bitch had a temper. At Hermione’s whispered, “ _Harry_ ,” he knew he would have no choice but to speak. 

“I heard you, ma’am,” he replied in an even tone. “It just so happens that I neither agree with you nor do I see the point in attempting to convince you of the truth.” He returned his gaze to his books.

“So, Mister Potter,” she said, her voice sweet as poison, “you still think it wise to cling to your wild fabrications and rumourmongering?”

“Madam, I simply told the truth. At the time I arrived from the tournament, I was far too distraught after witnessing my schoolmate murdered before my eyes to fabricate anything. Not that I would have done concerning Voldemort regardless.”

Everyone in the room flinched, including Toadface. Shite. That might have been a mistake. 

“I see.” Umbridge gave him a simpering smile. “In that case, I believe I shall need to see you after class tonight to discuss matters. Detention, seven o’ clock.”

Harry scowled, his belly tight and hot with bubbling outrage. “Just to clarify, I haven’t broken any rules, been disrespectful, or done anything actually deserving of punishment—you’re simply putting me in detention for disagreeing with you, correct?”

“ _Harry_ ,” Ron whispered. “Stop.”

“I am placing you in detention for spreading vicious lies about the war. And perhaps you may need a few further sessions to understand that. You’ll have detention at seven for the rest of the week, Potter.”

Harry shook his head and returned to his books. Saying anything further would only land him in more trouble and give her more opportunity to torment him. 

Before she returned to her desk, she called, “Oh, and Finnigan, I think a detention is in order for you as well for your disrespect. Tonight at, shall we say, eight o’ clock?”

 _‘At least the hell with Umbridge will only last an hour,’_ Harry thought and returned to his studies, farce that they were.

* * *

Holy _fuck_ , had Harry been relieved to find his detention would only last an hour? He had been near tears with pain ten minutes in. What the hell kind of quill had she used on him? He staggered out of the hag’s office and headed towards Gryffindor tower, but grabbed Seamus on the way. 

“Don’t. Don’t go into detention with her. She’ll torture you—I mean _literal_ torture.”

Seamus pulled away and sneered. “More lies, Potter? Just go on.”

“But, Seamus, _look_ —” Harry struggled to lift his injured hand, but Seamus pushed it away, and in the pain from the motion, Harry couldn’t gather his wits enough to stop him. Worse, the injuries that had bled freely in detention had sealed, leaving nothing but a slight red mark behind. They still hurt like hell, but he had no proof. Of _course_ he had no proof.

“Shove it, Potter. I’ll be fine. Just because you can’t hack it….”

The boy went towards Umbridge’s office, muttering all the way. 

“Seamus, _please_.”

But the boy was ignoring him, and the more Harry protested, the more he risked being caught, stopped, and tortured again.

“Damn. I… I’ve got to find A-Azrael.” He turned his ring three times, an indication that he needed to see Severus and it was an emergency. The man would already be on standby, knowing Harry had detention with the devil that evening.

Hardly ten seconds passed before Xerxes shot out of a corridor and zipped to Harry’s shoulder. A distressed caw escaped him, and Harry petted him with his uninjured hand. 

“Xerxes,” he whispered, “I need you to rush in here in your human form. Stop Umbridge’s detention. Hurry. She tortured me—literally—and she’ll do the same to Seamus.”

Xerxes’ sharp squawk revealed his horror. Harry showed him his hand, not that it would do any good. 

“I k-know it doesn’t look like much, but it… it healed. I don’t know what she did to her quill, but it cut me and made me write in my own blood. She spent the entire hour torturing me.”

Xerxes cawed and tugged Harry’s hair, directing him down the corridor. Harry followed his friend into the first empty classroom—charms, as it happened—and watched as Severus shifted into Azrael’s shape and brought him into a hug.

“Harry… dear _gods_. She used a _blood quill_ on you? Merlin help us! I never imagined she would be so far gone.”

“I-is there anything we can do?”

Azrael kissed Harry’s head. “I will wait a few moments and burst in on the detention, pretending to have been sent on some errand or another. With any luck, I will find the evidence on Finnigan before it heals or some other clue to implicate her. You must go straight to the headmaster. Tell him everything.”

“Y-yes, Azrael.” Harry shuddered. “I think she tried to dose me with Veritaserum, too. Be careful—don’t drink anything she offers you, not that you would, but just in case.”

“Yes, I am well aware she is the epitome of evil. Quite as dark as the lord of it himself, or so it appears.” Azrael tipped up Harry’s chin and wiped his tears. “Go. Hurry. I will save your classmate.”

Harry obeyed.

* * *

As a result of Severus’ timely intervention, Finnigan was not tortured. However, Severus had recognised the haze of Veritaserum clouding the boy’s features the moment he entered the toad’s office. She made up some excuse about lessons dazing the boy or some such lie, but Severus was not the foremost potions master in Europe for nothing. 

“That, madam, is _not_ mere fatigue.” He fixed the boy with a sharp-eyed stare. “Finnigan, what is it you have against Potter this term?”

“I am afraid of him. If You-Know-Who is back, then Dean will be targeted.”

“Interesting.” He stared at Umbridge, his expression cold and triumphant. “And why is it that you are so fearful for the life of Mister Thomas?”

“I’m in love with him.”

Severus hauled Finnigan up by the arm and sneered at Umbridge. “Studying dazes, if such a thing exists, do not render students so unusually… _honest_ , madam. Particularly with me.” He directed the boy out of the office. “Come, Finnigan. We are going to the headmaster.”

Finnigan followed dutifully, the Veritaserum having forced him into compliance. Umbridge squawked.

“Now, wait just a moment! You can’t just take him out of here. He still has forty-nine minutes of detention remaining!”

“And unauthorised use of Veritaserum on students—authorisation which requires the explicit written permission of said student’s guardians, their head of house, and the headmaster—is illegal, madam. Good _day_.” With that, Severus slammed her office door in her face and warded it. Let her spend all night working _that_ out. They would need to take her into custody regardless.

“Come, Finnigan.”

The boy followed, a silent puppet, and Severus hoped this evidence would be enough to remove the Ministry’s influence from Hogwarts.

* * *

But of course, it wasn’t to be so simple. Harry had given Dumbledore all the proof he could, Severus had provided all he could offer as well, and, after receiving permission from the elder Finnigans, Dumbledore had sent a sample of Seamus’ blood to a private lab for analysis, but the Ministry refused to dismiss her or charge her with a crime. And worse, the next day, Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three passed and a story printed in The Prophet which sympathised with Umbridge’s attempts to glean the truth out of a resistant student body and against all opposition. 

The Irish papers, on the other hand, printed a rather different tale.

Luna handed Harry a copy of The Rolling Green the next morning. The front page sported a giant picture of Umbridge under the headline: _Evil Professor Doses Student Without Consent; Tortures Another. Ministry Refuses to Take Action._

“Merlin,” Harry said with a wan smile. “At least one paper got it right.”

Luna smiled back, dreamy as always. “You aren’t alone. And I think you should speak up about Cedric. Whether or not the public at large believes you, he deserves the truth to be known.”

Harry winced. “Y-yeah. It’ll be hard, but you’re right.” He gave her a worried look. “Will it make a difference, Lu?”

“For some. Some believe the Ministry line only because they have yet to hear your side of the story. Perhaps it’s time to tell it, soon.”

He sighed. “The Quibbler, then?”

“Of course we’ll print it, but, unfortunately, that won’t improve your image much. No, I think you need to go straight for the heart of the publishing industry if you wish to make waves large enough for the public to see.”

Harry had to think for a moment. “Damn. Skeeter.”

“I’m sure she’d be ecstatic for a chance to print something interesting, given her growing discontent with playing nice.”

Harry chuckled darkly. “Oh, I’m sure.” He squeezed Luna’s hand. “Thanks. Might I borrow this to show Ron and Hermione?”

“Show it to Seamus, too.” She pointed to the name under the headline—Fiona Finnigan. 

“Merlin, his mum wrote this?”

“It was a mistake for Umbridge to poison the son of the foremost reporter of The Rolling Green, I think.”

“Yeah, so I see.” After a quick goodbye, Harry tucked the paper under his arm and made his way to the Gryffindor table. “Hello.” He sank down next to Hermione and whispered, “I’ve got news.”

“Whenever Luna talks to you, you always do,” she said with a shrug. “Well?”

Harry passed her the paper. “Mind sharing with me? I’ve not read it myself yet.”

“Sure.” She held the paper in the middle of Ron and Harry, and both boys read over her shoulders. The article ripped into the Ministry, Umbridge, and Fudge, but did not tear into Hogwarts, to Harry’s surprise. 

 

> _“The school, we determined, has done everything within its power to see that justice is done for Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Potter, and with such a Ministry mounting an offence against them, they are taking grave risk to do so. I am relieved to know that the students at Hogwarts are always the headmaster’s first priority, and honoured by his sacrifices to keep my family, and yours, safe.”_

 

“Well, that’s a glowing review for us, to be sure,” said Ron with a frown. “Not what I was expecting, given the source.”

“True,” Harry agreed. “But whether they believe me or not, they’re still human beings and they still deserve to be treated with respect. Umbridge went _far_ beyond the line with Seamus, let alone what she did to me.”

Hermione gently took Harry’s hand. “I can’t see a mark.”

Harry growled under his breath. “It healed the second it took my blood. That way it left no evidence behind except the pain. Convenient, yeah?”

“For them, mate.” Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you see the new _decree_?”

“Yeah. I reckon they were working on that one before she even started here or it would’ve given her carte blanche to poison anyone she wants with Veritaserum, too.”

“I reckon not even Fudge can wrangle the Wizengamot into breaking their own rules _that_ far. I hope not anyway.”

“So do I,” said Hermione with a shiver. “If she ever doses us—dear gods. The secrets she could draw out of us! Merlin forbid.”

Harry clenched his fists. “Never. I’ll fucking _die_ before I take Veritaserum. It won’t just be my life on the line.” No, if anyone ever drew out his secrets, three innocents would die, and possibly more, for nothing more than the crime of being born. 

Hermione rubbed his shoulder. “None of us will let her do it. We’ll defend you and Azrael, to the end. I swear it.”

“Same here, mate,” Ron agreed.

Harry clutched her hand and took in a shaky breath. “T-thank you.”

Hermione squeezed back. “What are friends for?”

* * *

After experiencing the Ministry’s dishonesty firsthand and Harry’s vociferous defence in his favour, Seamus stopped antagonising Harry. He apologised, too, though he never explained why he had been so angry at the start of the year. Then again, maybe he didn’t need to. The rise of a dark lord beyond death who would want Seamus’ best friend and all of his dormmates dead was terrifying enough to make anyone want to deny the possibility. Harry didn’t hold a grudge, and he didn’t let Ron hold one either. They had too much on the line in the coming days to be at war with their allies, too.

Most of them, anyway. Lupin and Black could take a long walk off a short pier for all Harry cared. Still, their feud wasn’t his doing. He had only ever wanted the bastards to leave him and Severus alone. It wasn’t _his_ fault they couldn’t take no for an answer. 

Umbridge had been suspended pending an investigation, so Harry hadn’t expected to walk into dinner the next day and find the toad perched at her usual seat, her expression prim and sly at once. 

Harry hissed under his breath to Hermione, “What the hell is Toadface _doing_ here?”

“I don’t know, but we’d best not draw attention to ourselves.”

“Hermione, I am _not_ going to another detention with that hag.”

“No, no you won’t,” Ron snarled. “We won’t let that foul bitch hurt you again. We’ll fight first.”

Hermione grimaced. “The entire Ministry, Ron?”

“If that’s what it takes, yeah! To the end, remember?”

Hermione stiffened her spine and nodded. “Right. To the end.”

“Thanks, you two. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Harry squared his shoulders and marched into the hall, flanked by his best friends, save one. “But if it does, I reckon I’ve a few surprises Miss Wands-Away won’t expect, yeah?”

Hermione chuckled darkly. “Oh, understatement.”

Dinner was a tense affair. Harry attempted to eat something just to appear unruffled, but his stomach protested every bite. His hands ached in remembrance of the night before with every glance at the bitch. And when she approached the Gryffindor table after finishing her meal, Harry’s heart nearly stopped. 

Ron and Hermione pushed in on both sides. “We won’t let her hurt you,” Hermione assured him. 

“I won’t either,” Seamus said, his expression dark and angry. “She shouldn’t be here. What in Merlin’s name is _wrong_ with the Ministry?”

Harry gave the boy a quick glance and looked back to the approaching hag. “You know, Seamus, I reckon it’s past time I told you and the other students just that, but not now. Not here.”

“Right. Then let’s show this bitch we already know a little practical defence, yeah?”

Harry shook his head. “Wait. If she forces our hands, we won’t have a choice, but—”

“How nice to see you again, Mister Potter,” came Umbridge’s simpering tones. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner, but we mustn’t forget you have other arrangements for the evening.” 

Harry stood and faced her down. “I won’t be attending another torture session with you, madam. Not now or ever.”

Her eyes flashed and her cheeks turned a mottled red. “You will do as I say, boy. I am the high inquisitor, and I—”

“Do not have the right to place students in detention without regard to proper safety measures,” said McGonagall from just behind her. “Nor will we allow it. Perhaps we mightn’t be able to ban you from the school— _yet_ —but neither will we stand by and let you torture students.”

Harry whirled around and gasped to find the entire staff table had gathered. Even Severus and Filch, though the former was risking his life, and the latter looked supremely put out about it. 

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said in his darkest tones. “I will admit I have made many mistakes over the years, but I have never condoned the abuse of students under my care, and I will not start now.”

Umbridge gave him a nasty look. “You’ll be removed! The Ministry’s word is law!”

“Will you remove and replace the _entire_ staff then, ma’am?” Sprout’s voice had never sounded so cold before. “Because you’ll have to fight every last one of us before we let you remove Harry—or any other student—from our sight for even a moment.”

“Hear, hear,” said Flitwick. “And while I may not look like much, I assure you, madam, I’m the foremost dueller in three countries. You’ll find me a difficult opponent.”

“You mustn’t take all the credit, Filius,” said McGonagall with a sharp smile. “You hold the titles, yes, but we are none of us weaklings. Severus, I wager, could make Madam Umbridge regret her decision to fight us quickly enough, as could I.”

Severus acknowledged the comment with a nod and a dark glare at the toad.

“I advise you, madam,” said Dumbledore with a cold smile at Umbridge, “to return to your seat. You are, from this point on, forbidden from being alone with any student whatsoever, permanently. One violation will result in immediate termination, Ministry contract or no.”

“You can’t do that, Albus,” Umbridge snarled. “The Ministry has authority!”

“The last time I checked, madam,” said Severus in his most lethal voice, “this has yet to become an authoritarian state. Step down.”

“Yes, do,” said McGonagall with a huff. “Or you’ll find that we’re prepared to _make_ you do so.”

“And I believe you will find that even Cornelius will have difficulty convincing the Wizengamot and governors to replace the entire school staff,” said Dumbledore. “Particularly when there is already evidence of abuse and said student did nothing more than to refuse to enter an environment where he is unsafe.” 

“He disrespected me,” Umbridge squawked. “He deserves punishment!”

“And so he shall have it. But not from you.” Dumbledore fixed Harry with a sad smile. “Do forgive me, child, but in order to keep you safe, I believe I shall need to reassign your week of detentions with Umbridge to Professor Snape. No one can fault that he will make sure you regret the dire offence of having an opinion of your own.”

Harry barely resisted a snort and forced his expression into a grimace. “Yes, sir. Well, it won’t be fun, but at least I know Professor Snape won’t torture me.”

“Don’t be too sure of that, Potter,” Severus said with a scowl. “You have yet to see the state of my cauldrons.”

“Will they make me write lines in my own blood?”

“No, indeed, but I may see fit to make you write them till you bleed if you continue to refer to me without the respect I am due.”

“Oh, right. S-sorry, sir. I’m a little shaken up.”

“Do I look like I care?”

 _‘Yes,’_ Harry thought. _‘You care so much, and having to act like this is destroying you.’_ To that end, he cut their conversation short. “Er… sorry, sir. Anyway, Headmaster, as I know Professor Snape can, at least, be trusted not to use blood quills on a student under his care, I’d much prefer to serve my unjustified detentions with him.”

Whispers and gasps broke out all around. 

“A _blood quill_? Aren’t they banned?”

“What’s a blood quill?”

“I thought those were illegal.”

“They are—it’s thirty years in Azkaban per charge!”

Umbridge gasped, eyes darting about wildly. “N-no need to make up such vicious lies, Potter. I—”

“I suggest,” said Dumbledore in a tone of voice that made it clear it was not a suggestion at all, “that you return to your seat this _instant_ , Dolores, and cease harassing my students.”

Umbridge turned tomato red. “You’ve not heard the last of this, Albus.”

“Perhaps not, but as the united front the entire Hogwarts staff is making against you will, no doubt, raise questions concerning your suitability as an instructor, and possibly concerning the Ministry’s goals in assigning such a… _professor_ control over the lives of innocent children, I suspect you may find it more difficult than you imagine to continue your mission at Hogwarts, madam. _Do_ sit down and let our students finish their meals. I am certain that you’ll agree young bodies do need proper nutrition, yes?”

Harry swore he heard her teeth grind. 

“Yes, of course,” she gritted out.

“Excellent,” said the headmaster. “Then I believe we are finished here. Harry, you will meet Professor Snape in his office at seven sharp for your detention. Do have a pleasant evening.” At Harry’s wry look, Dumbledore chuckled and amended his statement to, “Well, more pleasant than otherwise.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Harry blinked hard and gave his professors a grateful smile. Well, those who counted. “A-all of you. I….” He swallowed tears and rubbed his hands on his robe, struggling to keep control. “Just, Merlin, thank you. I… I expected to have to fight for myself.”

“We all did,” said Hermione with a sniffle. “Thank you from us, too, Professors.”

Ron bowed in gratitude. “Saved us a load of trouble, you did. And probably hundreds of lost points. Thanks.”

McGonagall squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “We will do so for any student who is unsafe within our halls.” Her eyes fixed on Umbridge. “Always.”

Umbridge scowled and stormed away, muttering to herself about authority and people who would most certainly pay.

Dumbledore patted Harry’s shoulder. “Now then, I do recommend you try to eat more of a proper meal, Harry. You will need the calories if you are to serve detention with Professor Snape later.”

Harry nodded and returned to his meal. With the knowledge that, at least for the night, he had no more worries about Umbridge, he managed to finish his plate. 

* * *

That evening, Severus took Harry into his office for detention and waited for Umbridge to do her rounds. Once the bitch had seen Harry cleaning a cauldron full of muck, he banished the mess, cast _Tergeo_ on Harry, and led him straight to the floo. Albus shepherded them safely into his quarters and gave them both a wan smile. 

“Well, this is a fine mess we seem to have waded into, my boys.”

“Waded?” Severus snorted. “We are swimming in it.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I think, Albus, we will have little choice but to move forward with my plans to discredit Fudge now, whether we are entirely ready or not. If we do not act immediately, he will only give that bint further and further power until we are all helpless against her, but for our wands.”

“If it comes to that, it reassures me to know that so many of my staff would fight for our students.”

“Yes, but at what cost?”

Harry wrapped Severus into his arms and held him tight. “It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s going to be okay.”

Severus dropped his head on Harry’s shoulder—it disconcerted him that he no longer had to bend to do so—and took refuge within his arms. “I was so frightened for you. I still am.”

Harry threaded his fingers through Severus’ hair and cradled his head close. “Ssh. It’s okay. I’m safe, and so are you.”

“For now, but I fear she will only come back with more authority come next week. We shall have to defend you against aurors, and—”

“Severus,” Albus said, his voice gentle and reassuring, “there may be a way to solve our problems without violence or rushing your plans to expose Cornelius’ corruption.”

Severus looked up, hope and terror mingling in his heart. “How? How can we possibly hope to fend off the entire Ministry?”

“The same way you fend off Tom—strategy and courage.” Albus gave them both a grave look. “Harry, Severus, if we are to stop this madness before we are all buried under the riptide of Cornelius’ denial and lust for power, then we may all need to do things which will make us uncomfortable—myself included—but I believe the reward will be worth our sacrifices. Are you willing to stand with me against them, even if it is difficult?”

Harry sat tall and gave him a firm nod. “You’ve protected us both all these years. The least I can do is help you cover your ar—er, bum.”

Albus chuckled. “Harry, in the headmaster’s office, you must act as a student does. But here, we are speaking as friends and colleagues. There is no need to censor yourself so—within reason.”

Harry gave him a lopsided smile. “You think of me as a friend? I mean, I know you love Sev, but I didn’t….” His cheeks flushed and his head drooped. “I thought… it was for the war. Mostly.”

Albus closed his eyes and lowered his head, too. “If I have given you the impression that I do not care about you beyond your potential benefit to the war effort, then I have harmed you greatly. I am so very sorry, Harry. That was never my intent.”

Harry clenched his fists in his lap and trembled. Severus had the sense he was struggling to hold back tears. 

“I-it’s not your fault. I—I think it’s me. I just, I have a hard time—but it’s nothing you’ve done, sir.”

“His relatives have drilled his low sense of self-worth into him, I think.” Severus rubbed Harry's hair. “Healing the damage will take more time.”

Harry winced and nodded. “Sorry, sir.”

Dumbledore patted Harry's hand. “My friends call me Albus, Harry. At least where it is safe to do so. Will you call me by my forename, as Severus does? I would… much like to think you see me as more than simply a general in the war. I know I care for you beyond your purpose.” A look of intense grief and deep anguish crossed his features, but his usual placid smile covered it the next instant.

“I… yeah, if you really want me to.” Harry rubbed his eyes. “M’sorry, si—er, Albus. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just….”

Severus cradled Harry into his side. “You have trouble believing that people are able to care about you simply for who you are. Between your vile relatives, your purpose to the war, and your fame, you have come to believe you have no worth beyond that of what you can offer.” He tipped Harry’s chin up so the boy faced him. “But you are worth everything to me.”

“S-Severus….”

Silvery tears streaked down Harry’s face and slowed on the smooth skin of Harry’s jaw. He had no need to shave as of yet, but for all Severus knew, perhaps his race did not grow facial hair. Time would tell. He feathered the pads of his fingers along Harry’s jawline and up into his hair. 

“You are everything. Never doubt your worth. You _are_ loved, and for more than what you can offer.”

Harry buried his head in Severus’ shoulder. “Love you, too. So damn much.”

Severus brushed Harry’s tears away and held him, gently stroking his cheek until Harry sat up and wiped his face. 

“Better?”

Harry gave him a wan smile. “Yeah, always.” He looked to the quietly curious Albus and sighed. “Sorry about that, s—Albus. That will take a bit of getting used to, but we have other things to talk about. What do you mean? What can we do to stop them before they bury us?”

Albus folded his hands in his lap, his expression grave. “Harry, you are aware that Severus is working on uncovering enough evidence of corruption against Cornelius to see him sacked regardless of public opinion?”

“Yes, he’s told me. And I think we’re making progress, but with this kind of situation….”

“Exactly. We have evidence, but without an ironclad case and far more proof than we would need with an unbiased court, we have little chance of success in this political climate. However, we do not need to have Cornelius sacked to protect ourselves. We must only discredit him enough that the Wizengamot does not heed every word from his mouth as law.”

Severus nodded grimly. “That will not be enough to keep him out of Hogwarts entirely.”

“No, but it should, at least, be enough to keep the school a self-governing entity, for the most part, and to keep our staff and students safe.”

Harry leaned forward, posture tense and vibrating with apprehension. “What’s the plan? Whatever we need to do to get Toadface out of the school, I’m game.”

“It occurs to me that due to the Ministry’s interference, the public does not actually know what you saw in the graveyard the past summer, Harry. And their loyalty to you, to the Boy-Who-Lived, whether they know you personally or not, is far greater than to our bumbling Minister of Magic. It is time to let them know the truth, and not simply of the war, but what happened with _her_ and why. You will need to be… far more open than is comfortable for you, and I do apologise, but it is a necessary evil if we are to protect the innocents, ourselves included.”

Harry gave a grim nod. “I’d already spoken to Luna about it this morning. I meant to owl Rita Skeeter tonight and set up a private meeting. I won’t like it, but I’ll give her the scoop of a lifetime to keep the Ministry out of our hair, provided she allows Hermione to check it for accuracy and honesty before it’s printed. Luna’s going to run it in the Quibbler, too, and I’ll bet anything Missus Finnigan would run it in The Rolling Green as well. She’d probably jump at the chance to show the Ministry for the cruel, blundering fools that they are, given what they did to Seamus.”

“Indeed,” Albus said. “In that case, I will call in a favour with the editor of Scotland’s paper, and I believe the Wales editor will print it without the need for convincing once she knows every other paper in the United Kingdom will have access to the story. At the moment, it appears Tom wishes to keep the news of his return quiet, but we will soon make certain that every household in the nation knows of his resurrection and our Ministry’s part in silencing it.”

“It still won’t be enough to convince all of them,” said Harry.

“No, but it will make enough of a dent in Cornelius’ reputation to protect us, and those who do believe will be prepared for war.”

“Yes,” said Severus, “I believe you are correct, Albus, but what is our part in your plan to protect the school and warn the nation?”

“You, Severus, must work doubly hard to gather evidence against Cornelius. Perhaps a friendly _chat_ with Lucius will provide some compelling information.”

Severus nodded grimly. “A _truthful_ conversation he shan’t recall, you mean.”

“Precisely. No one need know you were involved.”

“Very well,” said Severus with a sigh. “I would much prefer to avoid the man, but for Harry’s sake and for yours, I will endure his nauseating company for a time.”

Harry slipped his arm behind Severus’ waist and squeezed him tight. “Tell me about him later, when it’s safe? What he did to you? I know there’s more beyond the fact that he’s more annoying than a drunk fwooper on a sugar high.”

Albus and Severus both snorted.

“Merlin,” Albus said with a laugh. “Now _there_ is a mental image I shan't soon forget.”

“And not an inaccurate summary, either.” Severus chuckled, but his mirth faded quickly. “Albus, you have neglected to inform us of your part in this three-tiered front.”

Albus closed his eyes, and a shiver passed over his frame. “I am afraid I cannot tell you everything, my boys. It is… there is simply too much at stake. However, I will let you know that I will be, like Severus, working from behind the scenes to undermine the Ministry and Tom. Other than that, I believe simply keeping the school safe from their manipulations will take most of my available resources.”

Severus again had the sense that Albus was holding something important back. “Albus, are you sure you cannot tell us? We are both able to occlude, and perhaps we might help you bear the burden, if you would share.”

Albus’ head drooped. “Oh, Severus. Would that you could, but it is not a matter of trust or your ability to guard the information. It is simply that… well, I fear it would endanger you to speak. Please, allow me this one secret. For now. If I truly can find no answer….” He swallowed hard and blinked rapidly. “You will know soon enough.”

Harry took the old man’s hand and squeezed his gnarled fingers. “Okay. If you need to keep it secret for our sake, we trust you. But tell me, is there anything we can do to help?”

Albus gave Harry a sad smile. “I… perhaps. If you can research Severus’ angelic powers—or perhaps when we know what race you are, as I am sure you will have powerful healing abilities yourself—you may help me to find a solution. If you are able to find ways to purify… evil-tainted things, please do let me know.”

Harry shivered. “Things, or people, sir?”

Albus closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “I cannot say—not yet. I do not know. But it would be wise to search for ways to purify both at the deepest levels of their existence, just in case. Soul cleansing, if you will.” 

A trickle of dread crept from the nape of Severus’ neck and down his spine. “ _Soul cleansing_ , Albus?”

“Please, do not ask me to reveal anything beyond what I have done already, Severus. I fear for you both.”

Severus sighed and patted the old man’s hand, still in Harry’s. “Very well. We shall help you research, when we are able to. I fear we shall neither one have much time in the coming weeks.”

“We’ll find it somewhere,” Harry said, his voice firm. “We’ll find time to help, Albus. I promise.”

Severus bowed in acknowledgement of Harry’s vow.

Albus squeezed Harry’s hand and gave him a smile edged with tears. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“It’s what friends do,” said Harry with a warm smile and glistening eyes.

* * *

Two days after the confrontation at dinner and a few hours after Arthur had notified them of Fudge’s attempts to pass another decree giving Umbridge carte blanche to interrogate anyone she wished, Harry waited in the owlery for a special guest. Xerxes and Hedwig perched on either shoulder, and Ron and Hermione stood on either side of him.

“Hedwig, a great, giant beetle is about to come flying onto my hand in a few moments,” he murmured to the one familiar he worried might prove a threat. “Don’t eat her, okay? She’s like Xerxes.”

Xerxes gave an offended caw and huffed. Harry laughed and stroked the crow’s chest.

“Easy, Xerxes. You know what I meant.”

Xerxes sighed and nuzzled his head into Harry’s palm. 

“Yes, I lo—oh.” At the slight pinch of tiny legs on his hand, Harry turned his palm down to find a green beetle perched on his skin. “Ah, hello there. Ready?”

Skeeter jumped off of his hand and reassumed her human shape. She smoothed her hair back and gave him a vicious smile. “For the story of the century? Of course I am.”

“Well, let’s go then. Oh, but my animals are coming too. They want to keep me safe.”

Xerxes and Hedwig puffed out their chests with pride. Harry chuckled. 

“Yes, yes, thank you.”

“And _we’re_ here to make sure nothing… questionable makes it into print.” Hermione held out her hand. “Your quick-quotes quill, please. You won’t be allowed to use it for this story. At all.”

Skeeter scowled. “But then how am I to write?”

“With this.” Ron held up a plain black quill. 

“What is that?”

“A dicta-quill charmed against… _embellishments_.” Hermione wiggled her fingers. “Your quill, ma’am. You can have it back when this is over, in exchange for a vow that you report nothing but the absolute truth for this interview and allow me to check your story for accuracy before it prints. And keep in mind that we have four other reporters present who have _honourable_ reputations, so any… discrepancies after I’ve given my final okay on your story will be obvious.”

With a snarl, Skeeter dropped her acid-green quill in Hermione’s hand. “You had best not damage it, Granger.”

“You’ll have it back in perfect working order once the story prints, assuming you stick to our terms.”

“Bloody extortionist,” she muttered and stalked away, her heels clicking on the stone floor.

“Brilliant work, Hermione,” Harry said with a soft laugh.

“But of course,” she said with a smirk.

Ron snorted. “Come on, Miss Brilliant. We’d best catch up to her before she takes a detour.”

“Right.” Harry left the owlery with two animagi, his best friends, and his familiar in tow. 

The headmaster’s office held more people than Harry had expected to see. Besides Skeeter, Seamus and his mother had come to represent The Rolling Green, as well as Luna and her father to take his report down for The Quibbler and two reporters from Wales’ and Scotland’s paper. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout had come to represent the professors as well, and Neville, Dean, and Ginny had tagged along somehow, too. 

Ginny. Shite. With everything Harry had endured over the summer and since school began, he hadn’t had time to speak with her yet. He vowed to do so as soon as possible, before her adolescent fancy developed into something she mightn’t recover from. 

For the moment, however, he pushed such concerns from his mind and greeted the group.

“Hello, everyone. I’ve gathered you here today because I have a story to tell you, one I think you’ll all be shocked to hear, and it’s time the rest of the country heard it, too.”

* * *

Arthur Weasley’s Patronus pranced into Severus’ quarters just before he had planned to leave for breakfast. _“The vote on Umbridge’s ability to question students is set for this afternoon. Are your preparations ready?”_

Severus supposed the weasel patronus must have carried her message to everyone in the Order before visiting him. He huffed in annoyance and called up his doe. “Deliver this to Arthur Weasley: ‘Read the bloody paper, Arthur. Our preparations have come to bear—or at least in part—in print.’ That is all, Hikari. Off with you.” The doe bounded away, and Severus grabbed his cloak and wand on the way out.

Umbridge sat at the breakfast table, her expression unbearably smug. So she hadn’t seen the Prophet yet. All in due time. 

Severus gracefully folded himself into his seat and waited for the fireworks to begin. 

Just as he had finished his bangers and mash, the owls arrived, carrying the morning paper in their talons. Severus had ordered a copy to be delivered to his place just for this though he usually had it sent to his quarters prior to breakfast. This time, he wanted to be there to see the Toadface turn technicolour. 

He caught the paper before it landed in his plate and passed the proper change to the delivery owl. “Thank you.”

The owl stole one of his leftover bangers and flew away. Severus didn’t begrudge him the small treat. If all went well, said owl deserved a bit of reward for making his morning.

With a smirk, Severus unfolded his paper, watching the toad out of the corner of his eye. A picture of Harry after the Tournament last year graced the cover, and Severus shuddered at the visible grief in his eyes, the way silent sobs wracked the boy’s frame. Dear gods. As much as he knew such a visceral photo would only help their cause—Hermione had chosen it for that very reason—he hated that Harry would have to see it.

The headline read: _Boy-Who-Lived Tells All! You-Know-Who Returns; Ministry Playing Power Games with Citizens’ Lives and Torturing Students!_

Severus couldn’t help but smirk as he settled into the story.

 

> _Yesterday afternoon, this reporter was called to Hogwarts for an emergency press conference. All of the United Kingdom’s foremost reporters had come as well as a handful of students and Hogwarts staff, and all to hear the tale of one Harry Potter, whom the Ministry has been unfairly maligning for several months._
> 
> _Mister Potter greeted us all with the height of respect and began his interview with a summary of his intent for the meeting._
> 
> _‘I’m here to tell you all the truth behind what happened at the Tri-Wizard last year, and to tell you what happened two days ago with the High Inquisitor, the so-called defence instructor that [Minister] Fudge forced into Hogwarts this year. But before we begin, and so there can be no doubt that every word I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth, Professor Snape, if you’ll please dose me with the Veritaserum the headmaster requested, sir?’_
> 
> _The potions professor stepped out of a corner and produced a phial from his pocket. ‘For the record, Potter, you have requested this potion of your own free will.’_
> 
> _‘Yes, sir.’_
> 
> _‘Very well. Open your mouth.’_
> 
> _Harry obeyed, and the professor placed three drops of what was obviously Veritaserum on Harry’s tongue. Headmaster Dumbledore guided the dosed boy into a chair and produced a strip of parchment from his pocket._
> 
> _‘This is a testing strip to verify the presence of Veritaserum. I was able to procure a few from a local forensic lab prior to this meeting at Harry’s request. If Veritaserum is present in the bloodstream, the strip will react with the dosed person’s saliva and turn pink. The brighter the colour, the purer the potion, and more potent its effects. As Professor Snape made this batch of Veritaserum himself, I am sure we shall see a quite lurid shade of pink appear shortly.’_
> 
> _The headmaster bid Harry to lick the paper, and it turned a brilliant shade of magenta. ‘Ah, the purest result I have yet to see. Well done, Professor Snape.’ He took a photo of the strip, shown on page three, and returned to his desk. ‘You may verify with any wizarding forensic lab that this is one of many ways to accurately test for Veritaserum after the interview, if you wish.’_
> 
> _This reporter did floo several respected forensic labs concerning the test strips and found the headmaster’s story to be accurate. The information on the test strip and the particulars as to its usage can be found on page seven._
> 
> _The headmaster continued, ‘For now, let us begin our interview while the potion is still in effect, as we have much to discuss and little time to do so. Harry, if you will, please tell us in your own words, what happened at the end of the third task during the Tri-Wizard tournament last year.’_
> 
> _Harry spoke in a monotone, the tell-tale effects of Veritaserum obvious. ‘I arrived at the cup first, but hesitated before taking it. I didn’t want it, more fame, but no one else was near._
> 
> _‘Just as I gave in and reached for it, Cedric came running with an acromantula on his heels. He advised me to run, but we ended up crashing into each other and falling atop the cup._
> 
> _‘The cup was an illegal portkey, and it deposited us in the graveyard where Tom Riddle Senior is buried. Voldemort’s muggle father, I mean. His true name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He’s a half-blood, much as he would like to pretend otherwise.’_
> 
> _This reporter also researched Mister Potter's statement as to You-Know-Who's origins, and while information is scarce, what few facts this reporter could uncover do, indeed, support his claim. See page nine for a summary of what history this reporter has, as of yet, been able to piece together._
> 
> _Unfazed by the bombshell of truth he had just unloaded upon us all, Harry continued without acknowledging the obvious shock of everyone present._
> 
> _'When we gathered our wits, I realised we had been transported away from the school illegally and warned Cedric to be on guard. We attempted to find the cup again and use the portkey’s natural reversal charm to escape, but there was no time. Before we could so much as turn our heads, he was there—Voldemort—with Peter Pettigrew, who is not dead and who is an unregistered rat Animagus. They were waiting for us, and as soon as they saw us, they attacked.’_

 

Merlin, this would _infuriate_ the dark lord when it reached his ears. Served the bastard right.

Severus chanced a glance at the Umbitch at the sound of choking nearby. He nearly laughed aloud at the sight of her bugging eyes and red-mottled face. 

_‘This round to us, Toadface. Your move.’_

* * *

Harry’s hands shook as he read the story. Gods, it hurt to relive it, but it had to be done. Now no one could doubt him—or at least very few—and hopefully, it would see the toad in Azkaban before long. Or at least out of Hogwarts. 

If nothing else, the public _knew_ now. He had done all he could to honour Cedric, to prepare the public for war. Whether they acted on their knowledge or not, the ball was in their court now. 

“Mister _Potter_!”

Umbridge’s shrill screech set every student in the hall cringing away. 

“I _demand_ that you come here this instant and renounce these vicious lies!”

Harry stood and stared her down. “The last time I checked, _madam_ , Veritaserum renders one absolutely truthful. Nothing I said that night was a lie.” Which was true, despite the fact that Severus hadn’t dosed him with Veritaserum, only a potion that mimicked its effects and would turn the test strip pink. Harry had far too many dangerous secrets to risk the real thing.

“Lies! Insubordination! I _will_ see you punished for this, you little de—”

Albus’ hand settled on Umbridge’s shoulder, his grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “What you will do, madam, is report to my office this instant. I believe we have things to discuss with your _other_ employer.”

Umbridge paled and let out a little squeak. “I do not answer to you!”

“How strange, as I am headmaster of this school and your current employer. In that case, I believe you may safely consider yourself, ah, how do the youth say it these days? Ah, yes. You may consider yourself sacked. You have thirty minutes to pack your belongings. Good day, Miss Umbridge.”

She turned puce and purple at once, not an attractive combination. “The Minister will hear of this!”

Albus chuckled. “Oh, I do imagine he already knows. Good _day_ , madam. And if I must tell you to leave again, I will not do so with words. Do I make myself clear?”

At the steel in his voice, Umbridge went white and scurried away. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. One evil professor down. He just had to hope the next wasn’t so bad.

* * *

With Umbridge gone, Harry had hoped they might have a chance to relax. Until the visions hit again that night, and he saw dementors on the loose, despair-maddened inmates in tattered robes crawling over rocks and ocean spray, innocent guards murdered in the dark of night.

So _this_ was how Voldemort would retaliate for Harry outing his resurrection and blood status. Bloody hell.

Knowing Severus would not be on the grounds until Riddle released him, Harry raced to the headmaster’s office, Ron and Neville hot on his heels. 

Albus answered in a neon-green duster and yellow sleep trousers. He rubbed his eyes and ushered the boys in. “Hello, Harry, Neville, Ron. May I ask what brings you to—”

Harry shut the door and cut across him. “No time for lemon drops, sir. Riddle just broke into Azkaban. All the inmates—all the Death Eaters the Light caught in the first war—they’re all on the loose again.” 

Albus paled and sank into the nearest chintz armchair, looking far older than Harry had ever seen him. “Merlin help us all.”

Harry nodded and prayed they would all come through this disaster in one piece.


	20. Of Like Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birth of the DA, and Harry talks with Ginny and reminisces with Severus. Severus gets a hint as to Harry's possible race.
> 
> Digital painting of Harry and Sev at the end. ❤

#  **Chapter 20**

##  _Of Like Minds_

### 10 OCTOBER, 1996

Jacob Gulliver, the Ministry’s replacement for Umbridge, _appeared_ to be a kinder professor on the surface, but Harry sensed the evil rolling off of him in waves. He was just as bad as the bitch herself, only he was smarter about it. Subtler. And that meant he would be harder to get rid of.

Damn. Harry might have considered his interview a waste if it hadn’t both removed a dangerous bitch from the streets—she was serving a life sentence in Azkaban after a lengthy investigation had revealed darker secrets than even Harry or his friends had suspected—and if it hadn’t also alerted the public at large to the true threat. 

Thanks to the story in the paper, his peers had all approached him with apologies over the past two weeks. They had also asked him about training. To teach them to survive, as Gulliver operated on the same lines as Umbridge in class. 

To that end, he brought Ron, Hermione, and Luna into a meeting with Azrael that night. “All right, everyone. Now that things have settled down a bit and we know Gulliver’s tricks, or at least have the basic idea of his schedule and where he likes to lurk, it’s time to talk about that plan I mentioned at the start of the year.”

He took a deep breath and paced a bit, hands behind his back. “I know you lot want to learn _proper_ defence, and we should do, but the truth of the matter is that we won’t learn it here. Not even with a decent professor. The professors here are paid to teach us to pass our NEWTs, not survive in the middle of a war. And the governors and Ministry are going to continue to interfere at every turn should we try it in defence class. And really, they’re within their rights to, to some extent. This is, primarily, a school of magic, not a military academy. In an ideal world, we shouldn’t need to teach twelve-year-olds to evade Death Eaters and Dementors, but as we’ve yet to find our way into Utopia, we’ve got to be practical. We’ve got to learn to fight like aurors, not NEWT students.” 

Harry gave his friend a wry grin. “And that’s where Azrael and I come in. You all know he’s been training me, right?”

Ron gave a dry snort. “Mate, we all saw you lay out Black—a former auror captain—like he was nothing. Well, Luna didn’t, but I reckon she knows anyway.”

Luna chuckled. “I do, yes.”

“There you have it, then. We all know you’re one hell of a fighter, and we all know who taught you to be. So what’s the plan, then?”

Harry motioned to the door. “Azrael, can you disillusion them for me? Everyone, hold hands. Dobby told me about this _wonderful_ room in the castle where we can train as many people as we want, without Gulliver—or anyone else we don’t want in—the wiser.”

Azrael obeyed with a nod and slid his hand into Harry’s, linking their fingers. Luna took his other hand.

“Are we all together then?”

Everyone called back in the affirmative.

“Good. Then come with me and keep silent until I’ve gotten you all inside.”

“Yes, sir,” said the students, and Harry snorted.

“Merlin. Save that for Az. Anyway, let’s go before Gulliver starts his eight o’ clock rounds.”

“Lead on,” Hermione said.

Harry guided them out of the empty classroom and up to the Room of Requirement. He asked it to provide an absolutely secure room where they could train and discuss plans, and found himself in what looked like a military training facility. Shields, armour, and weapons of all varieties lined the walls. Mats covered the floors. Shields shone around the training circle in the centre of the room, and in the back corner was a treatment area with every potion and first-aid supply imaginable. 

Near the training circle, a small living area sat, screened off from the main chamber. Blue and gold sofas lined the walls, and an empty coffee table sat in the centre. Harry led his friends to the sofas and lifted their disillusionment and muffling charms.

“Welcome, everyone, to the Room of Requirement. It changes into just about anything you want it to be.” To demonstrate, he asked the Room to provide a reference area for dark magic and defence, and a bookshelf popped into being on his left with all sorts of useful texts. Azrael and Hermione nearly salivated at the sight.

Harry gave a soft chuckle. “Later, you two. Later, you can turn this room into the Library of Alexandria if you want and read to your hearts’ content. For now, we need to focus.”

Azrael glanced around the room. “This is truly amazing, Harry. You said Dobby told you of this place?”

Harry looked anywhere but Luna. She knew why he hesitated to reveal her aid. “Yes. The elves call it the ‘Come and Go Room,’ because their magic already works so that they can make whatever they need with a snap of their fingers. They don’t need a special place like this for things they can’t create on their own. For the rest of us, it’s the Room of Requirement, as it shifts to meet whatever need we might have at the time. Go on. Try it. Think of something you’d like. Only not food—it can’t make food.”

“Pity,” Ron said with a heavy sigh. “I’d rather like it to turn into a giant Honeydukes.”

Azrael laughed. “I will keep that in mind for Christmas this year. For now, let us try something more practical.” 

He closed his eyes, and a map of the castle appeared on the table before them. Gulliver’s name appeared in red, still within his office. The names of the dark-sided students appeared in purple in various places, too. 

“Brilliant,” Azrael breathed and ran his fingertip along the parchment. “It works exactly as your map does, Harry, only it is larger and attuned to those we must be wary of.”

“That’ll certainly come in handy,” said Harry with a grin. “But we can’t take it out of the room, unfortunately. The magic only works as long as we’re within its walls. Anything we try to take from here will vanish.”

Hermione pouted at the bookshelf. “Now _that_ is really a pity.”

Harry snorted. “Indeed. Now, let’s talk plans. Azrael and I are going to train you. _All_ of you. Azrael, I need a sign-up sheet and wards that prevent dishonesty and will mark traitors out before they can get us killed. I’ll help you design the spells, though you could do it on your own if you wanted to, I’m sure.”

“I believe we can manage that, Harry. You’re coming along in your spellcraft quite well.”

Harry squeezed his hand. “Thanks. You’re brilliant, so together, I’ve no doubt we can keep everyone safe.” He looked to Hermione. “‘Mione, I need you to be our point of contact among our would-be fighters. Get as many fifth year and up students can in here—well, _trustworthy_ students—that you can. Slytherins too, but obviously no Death Eater wannabes or sympathisers. Make sure they check out with Az and Luna before you mention it to anyone outside this room.”

Hermione nodded. “Understood. I’ll have to have Azrael’s sign-up sheet first, though.”

“Yeah. We’ll get right to work on that right away. We’ll need two, I think. One for your group and one for you, Ron. I need you to check out the younger years and get them involved. I’ll just be teaching them self-defence, not offence, but they still need to know how to protect themselves.”

“Ginny will be hacked off about that,” said Ron with a grimace.

“Well, Ginny and Lu are being trained as fighters. They’re fourth years, Ron. Third year is the cut-off.”

Ron snorted. “Right. Well then, _Mum_ will be steamed if she ever finds out.”

“Merlin forbid,” said Harry with a wince. “The howlers won’t stop for _weeks_.”

“You’ve got that right. But as long as Ginny’s got no reason to chew my head off, count me in, mate.”

“Thanks.” Harry gave Luna a warm smile. “Well, I guess that’s everything I _know_ we can do, but, Luna, if it’s possible, I have an important task for you, too. I need you to make sure everyone they talk to is okay, or better yet, just give us a list of people we should avoid. Can your sight do that?”

Luna cocked her head in thought. “It mightn’t be perfect, but I imagine I can help.”

“Just do your best. I trust you.”

Luna gave him a bright smile. “I am glad. I’ll help however I can.”

“Thanks, Luna. All of you, really.” Harry glanced at the map and winced. “Shite. We’ve got to cut it short, you lot—Gulliver’s on the move early tonight, which means he’s probably trying to figure out where Azrael or I have gone. For now, we’d best make it easy for him to find us. In the meantime, work on your projects. Az, I’ll sneak down to help you once Gulliver is done with his patrols, yeah?” 

Azrael sighed. “Would that you needn’t come see me so late on a school night, but needs must. Yes, you may come. Only be exceedingly careful.” He frowned. “While we are training the others in combat, I believe I shall use this room to add a stealth training regimen to your daily practise, Harry.”

“Stealth?” Harry grinned. “Brilliant. Sounds fun. Anyway, we’d better run—he’s on the fourth floor and coming up. Best to get out now before we’re caught together. Especially you, Az.”

“Yes. Goodnight, everyone.” Azrael kissed Harry’s cheek and swept away. 

Harry and the others followed as soon as it was safe.

* * *

Once Hermione had her charmed sign-in sheet, she, Harry, Ron, and Luna met in the Hogshead during the first Hogsmeade weekend that Gulliver did not sign up for patrols. They signed twenty-four that day, no traitors, thankfully. It thrilled Harry that so many of his peers had come, and he left the Hogshead feeling ecstatic.

Until he noticed Ginny tagging along too close and realised he still hadn’t talked to her. Well, he supposed now was as good a time as any. 

“Um, guys,” Harry said to his friends, “I’ll catch up. I need to talk to Ginny.”

Ron grimaced. “Be gentle, mate. Please.”

“I will. I… I wish I needn’t do it at all, but I can’t let it go any longer. The more I wait, the worse it’s going to be.” Harry sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Wish us both luck, yeah? I reckon we’ll need it.”

Ron patted his shoulder. “Good luck, Harry, and send Ginny to Luna once you’re done. I reckon she can help better than any of us.”

“Good idea, but….” Luna cocked her head, as she always did when she listened to the future speak, and gave Harry a worried look. “Harry, don’t be angry at her if you can help it. There’s more at play here than what’s on the surface.”

“Angry? Merlin, why would I be? She can’t help it.”

“Yes, well, just keep that in mind, will you?”

“I promise.” Merlin. What had Luna seen to worry her like this? “Er… I’ll just… I'll meet you at the Three B’s for lunch when we’re done, then?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Hermione.

Luna shook her head. “You’ll be busy with Azrael, but we’ll bring you a sandwich back.”

Harry gave her a wry smile. “Oh. Well, thank you.” He sighed and gathered his courage. “Right. I’d best hurry then. If Az is going to meet me, then I won’t have much time before we’re due back at the castle. See you in a bit.” He waved and turned, meeting Ginny head on.

“Ginny? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Ginny said goodbye to her friends and trotted to Harry’s side, her eyes alight. “Yeah?” Her smile faded at his grim expression. “Oh, is something wrong?”

“Not… wrong, per se, we just need to talk.”

“Er… all right. Well, do you just want to go back to the Hogshead for a minute?”

“Sure, that’ll do.” Harry led her inside the pub and sat in the corner furthest away from the other customers. “Right.” He took a deep breath and bolstered his courage. “Listen, I… over the past few years, I’ve gotten the impression that you fancy me. Is that true?”

She flushed bright red. “Wow. Um… way to break the ice there, Harry.”

He gave a wry laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m doing.”

Ginny gave him a warm smile. “Well, maybe I can make it easier. Would you like to go out with me to the Three B’s before we head back?”

Harry winced and ducked his head. “Gin… that’s… damn.” He laid his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Oh.” She went white, then slumped into her seat. “Oh. But… why? I thought you liked me.”

“I _do_ , but like a sister, not a girlfriend.” 

“Well, _that_ helps.”

Harry winced at the sarcasm in her tone. “Ginny, listen. It’s not you, really. You’re a good person, you’re smart and pretty and funny and brave, and if I was… er… typical, I’d go with you in a shot. But I’m not. I’m just not.”

She stared, bitter hurt and confusion apparent in her eyes. “Typical? What in Merlin’s name is that supposed to mean?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and coughed. “Er, well, just keep your voice down, but I mean… I’m gay, Ginny. Women don’t attract me at all.”

She scowled. “I’ve seen you around Phlegm. She affects you, and she wouldn’t if you were.”

“Her name is _Fleur_ , and she doesn't attract me—don’t you remember that I didn’t react at the Quidditch World Cup? There were Veela _everywhere_ there, but I was just leery of them. I only act like she affects me to keep the public from finding out so it’s not plastered all over the papers. Well, at least for the moment. I guess it will be eventually, but that kind of shite would only distract from the important things right now, and there’s just too much at stake.”

Ginny gave him a searching look. “Well, be that as it may, how do you know you don't like women if you’ve never tried, Harry?”

He grimaced. “Because I’ve not the slightest interest in trying? I’m sorry, Ginny. I know it’s hard to cope with, but that’s the truth, and I can’t help it.”

“But… but what about the Potter line? If you don’t have kids, it’ll die out!”

Harry gave her a sharp look. “And? I’m not a bloody brood… er… stallion. I’m not going to force myself to tolerate a woman just to get children and perpetuate the status quo.” 

Ginny scowled. “It’s _tradition_.”

“And since when have I ever cared about antiquated pureblood traditions?”

She winced. “Antiquated.”

“That one is, absolutely. It’s bloody unfair to force homosexuals to be miserable or ostracised because they can’t make children with their partner. Oh, and by the way, there _is_ such a thing as surrogacy. Merlin.” 

“But then you would have a child out of wedlock!”

Harry’s lips curled in a scowl. “First of all, it wouldn’t be out of wedlock as I’d be bonded to their other father. And second, who the hell cares? A child is a child, and families don’t have to fit the rigid pureblood guidelines to be good.”

Ginny stood and plopped onto the bench beside Harry. “Listen, I think… maybe you just don’t know what you’re talking about because you’ve never experienced anything with a woman.”

“Or maybe I don’t _want_ to,” Harry said, edging back. 

“Well, I, for one, think you can’t possibly make a decision until you _know_.”

“I do know, and—”

She grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. Harry froze, horrified and cold, too shocked to move—at least until he felt her tongue against him. Then he shoved her back, jerked to his feet, and whipped out his wand. Tears pooled in his eyes and his stomach churned.

“I said _no_ , Ginny. I meant _no_. Touch me again, and I won’t hesitate to curse you.” He blinked to clear his vision, ignoring the tears on his cheeks. “Oh, and just to make it abundantly clear, that definitely settled it—I never want to touch another woman again so long as I live!”

“Harry!” Ginny stood, tears on her face, and reached for him. “Wait, don’t—I’m sorry. I just wanted to—”

“I don’t care! You didn’t stop to think about what I wanted when you bloody assaulted me just now, did you?”

Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Aberforth’s hand settled on her shoulder and made her squeak.

“I think the lad has made his wishes clear enough, lassie.”

Ginny whimpered, “But I just wanted… I just thought….” She covered her eyes and sobbed. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this! It’s not fair.”

“Wasn’t fair to take a kiss against his will neither, lass. I think you’d best go back to the castle now.”

Ginny gave a strangled cry and ran away, tears streaking her face. Harry slumped into the booth and dropped his head in his hands. 

“That… could’ve gone better.”

Aberforth gave a wry chuckle. “That it could have, lad. Are you all right?”

“Y-yeah. Little shaken up. I’ll be fine though.”

“Well, you just sit here and get your head on straight. I—oh, looks as though someone’s wantin’ to see you. You know this chap?”

Harry looked up to see a worried Azrael watching him. “ _Azrael_. Oh, thank Merlin.”

Azrael gave the barkeep a tentative smile. “Thank you for helping him. I will take over from here, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure, best I get back to the bar anyway. Good luck, laddie.”

Harry gave him a wan smile. “T-thanks.”

Aberforth nodded and left, and Azrael sat in the booth beside Harry, wrapping one arm and his glamoured wing around the boy’s shoulders. “Harry, Merlin—you’re shaking. What is it, little one?”

“G-Ginny. Finally told her… you know. And she went on that pureblood spiel about kids and bloodlines and such, and when that wasn’t enough to convince me to ‘give it a try,’ she grabbed me and bloody well snogged me.” Harry shuddered and buried his face in Azrael’s chest. “I don’t want her to. I don’t want anyone to, except….” He couldn’t speak further, but he hoped the way he nuzzled closer to Azrael and closed his fingers over the tengu’s hand made his meaning clear. 

Azrael’s breath hitched. “Harry, be careful, little one.”

“I know. I won’t. I just… it hurt. I wanted the first time to be—” Harry buried a sniffle in Azrael’s shoulder. “I’m s-sorry.”

Azrael sighed into his hair and hugged him close. “Ssh. I have you, Harry. You are safe now.” He leaned down to whisper, “And the first time you kiss… someone… of your own will, it _will_ be special. It will be new. It will be beautiful, because you love them.” The way Azrael brushed his knuckles across Harry’s cheek felt like a promise.

Harry sighed into his chest, relief and love washing away his disgust and horror. “Y-yeah. I… yeah. You’re right.” He sat up and wiped his face. “It’s too public here for that, but thank you, Az, for being here.”

“I always will be, child. Do you wish to join your friends?”

“I… I think I’d rather just go home. Can you come with me?”

“Do you have…?” Azrael tapped Harry’s cloak pocket.

“Yeah, always carry it with me.”

“Then we shall go to the Room and have Dobby bring us lunch, yes?”

“That sounds lovely, yeah. Let’s go.”

Azrael nodded and helped Harry to his feet. “The Shrieking Shack?”

“Yeah. Can you put this on us both without the others seeing?”

“What do you take me for?”

Harry chuckled and followed Azrael, first into a dark corner where the Tengu hid them from sight, then back to the castle along the path to the Whomping Willow. 

“Ron’s going to be angry with me. He said to be gentle with her.”

“You were, child. It is not your fault that she took liberties she had no rights to.”

“I… I hope he understands that.”

“If he does not, your female friends will beat it through his head, and so will I.”

Harry laid his head on Azrael’s shoulder, a bit taken aback that he could reach it with no problems while walking beside his tall friend. “Yeah. Thanks, Azrael. I love you.”

“ _Daisuki da yo_ , Harry-kun.”

Harry smiled and committed the phrase to memory.

* * *

Ron had been angry—at _Ginny_ , not Harry. He dragged her off to the Room the minute Harry told him the whole story, and she came back in tears. Harry avoided her like the plague. Merlin forbid she try to kiss him again. And it was probably best that she stayed away from him for a while anyway, just to give her time to heal.

Instead he focused on training Dumbledore’s Army, so named in a fit of pique against Fudge’s idiocy. He did exceptionally well, too. Perhaps a bit _too_ well. Hiding his wandless skill and elemental control grew to be more of a challenge with every passing day, and he had to focus doubly hard to keep his secrets… secret. 

After another successful training session, Harry mused on the situation with their namesake while he and Azrael packed up. Albus had been absent more often than not as of late, and the few times Harry saw the man, he looked more and more woebegone every time. More tired. Older. 

It hurt Harry to see it, such a powerful man looking so defeated. 

He tried to help as much as he could, spending every spare moment Azrael didn’t drag him into training with his nose buried in a book. Albus had even given himself, Ron, and Hermione free access to the restricted section at Hogwarts, and Severus had brought in his home library, too, but even so, they hadn’t seen so much of a hint of soul healing magic. Still, he refused to give up. The answer was out there, somewhere, if only they could find it. 

Maybe Harry’s new heritage would give them a clue. It was coming, soon, if the changes in his body and magic were any indication. His wand had long since become more hindrance than help, and both his elemental powers and healing magic had grown stronger by the day. And his overall power had grown to the point that if he didn’t exert fierce control over his magic, particularly when he used a wand, he would level the classroom. 

Perhaps the best changes were his height, which had increased exponentially over the term, and his back. It prickled sometimes, as if something lay in wait just under the skin. Something like _wings_ , he hoped. Merlin, it would be wonderful to fly with Severus one day, even if they had to make themselves invisible to do it.

But the most telling aspect of his coming change was his dreams. Every night, Harry saw the Hall of Prophecy—Voldemort’s obsession with the Prophecy feeding through their link—but it never stayed there for long. 

_“Llewelyn… Llewelyn….”_

Harry had never answered to such a name in his lifetime, and yet, he knew it was meant for him. A woman’s voice called to him every night, leading him away from the Prophecy and into a hall of revolving doors. Just when he decided which door to open, he woke, and yet, he understood somehow that this meant his fate loomed ever closer. The Keeper of the Ways waited beyond that door. Harry had no doubts.

He was wondering how much time he had left as a minor when a feminine voice behind him jolted him out of his thoughts.

“Harry? Can I talk to you?”

He tensed, ready to run. “Not if you’re going to attack me again, Ginny.”

“I-I’m not,” she said with a sniffle. “Harry, I… please. I’m so sorry.”

He sensed the sincerity in her tone and turned to face her, hand on his wand and posture tense. Azrael stood by, watching the confrontation with narrowed eyes, and Harry felt safer knowing he would protect him if need be.

“What is it, Ginny?”

She rubbed red-rimmed eyes and took a deep breath, then met his gaze head-on. “Harry, I want to apologise. For… for coming onto you without your consent, and for not understanding your… er… your nature. Mum and Ron both have boxed my ears over it since it happened, and well, they’re right. It was awful of me to try to force you to be what you’re not, and even worse of me to force you into a kiss you’d already made it plain you didn’t want.”

Tears ran down her face, but she rubbed them away harshly.

“I’m really sorry, Harry, and… and if you want, I won’t ever bother you again, but I’d really like to be friends again, if you can ever forgive me. I miss talking to you, and I miss just… well, being friends. I know it’s my own fault, but I… I want to make amends, if I can.”

Harry glanced at Azrael, who gave him an encouraging nod. If Azrael had sensed her honesty when he was so protective of him, Harry reckoned it was safe to trust her again.

“All right, Ginny. We can work on healing the breach of trust.” He gave her a stern look. “But I’m not straight, nor will I ever be, and no amount of ‘convincing’ is going to change my mind. If you can understand that, we can start talking and such again. But one more attempt to change me will put an end to that instantly, and there won’t be any fixing it the next time. You don’t have to understand me, but you do have to accept me for who I am if you expect me to be your friend.”

Ginny nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “Y-yeah, I promise. I’m sorry, Harry. Really. I didn’t understand, and I’d picked up some bad ideas from the other pureblood girls, but Hermione, Luna, and my family set me straight. I promise I won’t… um… interfere in your sexuality or invade your space again. I just want your friendship back, that’s all, honest.”

Harry sighed and held out his hand. “If that’s all, then yeah, we can be friends again. Just don’t break my trust again, okay?”

“I promise.”

“Good. See you later then.” 

“Yeah.”

Harry watched her go, his heart conflicted. Azrael laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you well?”

“I… I think so. Just a little worried. Do you think she’ll keep her word?”

“I do. She practically reeked of remorse.” Azrael’s ears drooped. “I know what it means to feel that way.”

Harry looked into the tengu’s eyes and sighed. “All right.” He relaxed into his friend’s side and took his hand. “If she feels half of what you did when you came back to the light, I guess I’d be a fool not to trust her.”

Azrael wrapped his tail around Harry’s legs and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, thank you, too.”

* * *

On the last night before the Christmas hols, Severus looked up from his gradebook at the sound of a knock. He put the book away and let in an invisible Harry.

“Good evening, Harry,” Severus said once he had shut the door behind his friend and tightened his wards. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, but….” Harry pulled off his cloak and bounded to Severus’ sofa, patting the seat beside him. “I miss you, Sev. I miss just… talking with you. Do you think we could take some time tonight to just be friends again?”

Severus sat beside Harry and gave him a soft smile. “You know, I was thinking of our past together tonight. How you have brought joy into my otherwise stark existence. Do you recall the time I set the plague of giant tomatoes on your relatives? Petunia thought she was in heaven… until they began rolling after her and snapping at her heels.”

Harry snorted. “That was a great one. Even if I did get stuck making marinara and tomato soup for the next three weeks.”

Severus chuckled. “At least you were able to nick a few for yourself. You certainly did not go hungry that week.”

“They were good tomatoes too. How did you do that? I didn’t think you could make food from nothing.”

“I did not create it from nothing. I borrowed from Petunia’s rosebushes and simply altered the atomic structure into something palatable for you.”

Harry chuckled. “Well done. I think the plague of sausages might have been my favourite, though.”

Severus snickered. “Not so much for your relatives.”

“You did find rather… inventive places to stash them.”

“Your uncle will never look at his wife the same way again.”

Harry squealed. “ _Severus_! Dear gods, I didn’t need to know that!”

Severus tipped his head back and let out a burst of laughter. “Merlin, Harry! I did not shove anything _there_ , thank you very much. I do have standards, after all.”

Harry dissolved into giggles and shared more of his favourite memories from his childhood, days Severus’ love for him and fierce hand with a wand had made fun for them both. Before long, Severus had ended up on the floor before the sofa, laughing hard enough to bring tears to his eyes as Harry chatted with him. 

“There’s another plague I sort of remember, but I was really young.” Harry lay back on the sofa, fingers curled around Severus’ ear and stroking the fluffy edge. “I think… maybe it was when they tried to stuff me in the cupboard the first time.”

“Ah, the plague of crows. I had thought you were too young to remember it.”

“No, I remember. There was one crow—Merlin, he was amazing. Vernon was shouting and ranting about his no-good nephew using up their space and taking food away from their precious child, and he just… swooped down and caught the bastard right across the face. Took a nice little chunk of his cheek. Vernon had fun trying to explain _that_ to the Muggle doctor. He finally gave in after that and put me in the second bedroom.”

Severus’ lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk.

Harry snorted at his expression. “So I have Xerxes to thank for that, hmm?”

Severus laughed and leaned into Harry’s petting fingers. “I feared you would be angry when you knew.”

“ _Angry_? That tosser has worse than a scratch coming!”

Severus chuckled darkly. “Should he ever attempt to imprison you in the cupboard again, he shall indeed.”

“I’ll help, since I don’t need my wand anymore.”

Severus gave him a searching look. “At all?”

“No. It’s actually harder to control my magic using my wand than it is without.”

Severus froze, the pieces falling into place. _Can’t use wands. Wings, untraceable magic, elements, love for life, shadows, ancient bloodlines, and powerful healing magic._ Merlin, he knew where he had read of that now. An archaic Celtic book about the ancient guardians. Was Harry an ancient Celtic race, then? Fae, perhaps?

Severus shuddered. He didn’t dare research it. Should he gain verification before Harry did, it might show in his thoughts or eyes, and Harry had grown more powerful at reading thoughts. It was best that he remained unsure of what he suspected until Harry knew the truth.

“Sev? I… does it bother you?”

The insecurity in Harry’s voice hurt. “No, child. It is only that I just recalled where I read that verse concerning your unique traits, and I am afraid to even think on it further. Please. Let us change the subject.”

“G-gods, yes, let’s.” Harry’s hand trembled on Severus’ ears. “You know, I love your ears. They’re so soft. And your tail. Do you know it wags when you’re happy?”

Severus flushed and buried his face in his hands. “Of all the subjects to choose, _must_ you pick the one which reminds me I am closer to a mutt than the mutt himself?”

Harry burst into laughter and brought Severus into his arms. “Hush. You’re as far from a mutt as it’s possible to be. You’re beautiful, Severus, and I love you dearly.”

“Ah… I feel much the same.” Severus laid his head on Harry’s shoulder. “You are growing so tall, Harry. It is rather disconcerting.”

“Yeah. I reckon I’m going to be as tall as you are one day.”

 “I believe you shall be taller. I was not so tall at this age.” And some fae grew to be remarkably tall. He shivered and cast the thought from his mind as soon as it formed. 

“Sev?”

“It is nothing.” Severus glanced at the clock and sighed. “It is past curfew, little one. As much as I have enjoyed spending time with you, you must return to your dorm now.”

“Sure, but maybe you could do a little late night prowling and catch me in time to serve me a bit of holiday detention tomorrow?”

Severus chuckled and kissed Harry’s cheek. “I will give you a one minute head start.”

“You’re on.”

* * *

[Scritch](https://www.flickr.com/photos/141843489@N07/47991316101/in/photostream): Harry and Sev reminisce while Harry pets Severus' ears. Digital painting.


	21. Unpleasant Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas hols are a pain in the arse for our boys, and a pain in more than the arse for the dunderhead duo.

#  **Chapter 21**

##  _Unpleasant Reunions_

### 20 DECEMBER, 1996

Harry and Severus returned to Grimmauld place over the holidays, as much as Harry would have rather stayed at Hogwarts. They couldn’t risk remaining at the school as long as Gulliver roamed the halls, particularly when there would be fewer other targets and responsibilities to distract the bastard from his goals. 

Harry _knew_ Gulliver was up to no good—and his friends agreed—but Gulliver knew better than to leave an obvious trail. They hadn’t been able to catch him at anything incriminating so far, but Luna said it would happen soon, thank Merlin.

If they could catch the evil bastard, maybe Harry might at least stay the Easter hols at Hogwarts. He certainly didn’t look forward to another fortnight enduring Black’s bullshite. Thank Merlin Lupin wasn’t due back from Germany until a week into the break. Both idiots in one house was two idiots too many.

Molly had taken to decorating Grimmauld Place with as much fervour as she had to cleaning it. When Harry arrived, the house was in a chaos. Molly had put everyone to work, and Harry and Azrael were no exceptions. Almost as soon as they came in, she set them to hanging garlands together. Black tried to butt in, but she sent him her strongest glare and made Black clean and decorate the basement instead—the furthest from Harry he could go without leaving the house. 

Black scowled and stormed away, and Harry snorted as he guided Azrael to the third floor, boxes of holly and pine garlands in tow.

That night, when Azrael visited, Harry sat upon his bed and beckoned Azrael. “Az?”

Azrael sat beside him and wrapped Harry in his wings. “What is it, Harry?”

“I’ve been thinking about our preparations for the war. I think I need to know as many skills as possible to protect myself and others. You agree, right?”

Azrael nodded. “Why do you bring it up?”

“Well, I… it’s that I want you to teach me two things I don’t know how to do yet.”

“Yes?”

“Um… to be an animagus for starters.”

Azrael smiled. “I believe you should be capable of it. Allow me to perform the test spell upon you. It will reveal whether you have an animal form or not.”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. “Have at it.”

Azrael murmured an incantation and stayed silent for several moments. Harry opened one eye to find the yokai staring, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Azrael?”

Azrael shook himself. “Merlin. I believe you will need to ask your… ah, your guide to train you in becoming an animagus when she contacts you. I do not think I am capable of training a shapeshifter.”

Harry froze, terror setting every hair on his body on end. “ _Az_! You’re not supposed to tell me! Oh, gods, what’s going to happen to us now?”

Azrael stared, bemused, then gasped and caught Harry into his arms. “Harry, ssh. You are safe. That is not a race, little one. Merlin, I would _never_. It is only that you have more than one animagus form. I do not know how to train one who does not have a set shape.”

Harry let slip a little cry of relief and sank into Azrael’s arms. “Oh. Oh, gods. You scared the shite out of me, Azrael.”

Azrael held him tight and smoothed his hair. “Forgive me. I would be happy to train you if I could, but that level of ability is beyond my understanding. I am sorry.”

“No, no. It’s all right. I’ll just ask _her_ when it’s time.” Harry sat up and suppressed a shiver. “Well, I know you can train me in the other skill I want to learn at least. Legilimency.”

Azrael winced and drew in on himself. “W-why do you wish to learn it?”

“Because if I know how to read someone’s thoughts, then I can use it in a duel to stay ahead of my enemies. And it might help me survive when I face Riddle.”

Azrael dropped his head. “Are you sure you would not rather have Albus train you?”

“He’s always gone for whatever secret mission he’s working on. He’s not around enough to teach me, and I don’t think I can ask him to set aside whatever he’s doing for us. I think it’s most likely too important.” Harry stared at his knees, his heart aching and stomach rolling. “D-don’t you want to train me anymore?”

Azrael nudged the boy into his side and wrapped both wings around him. “Of course. It is only that if I teach you legilimency, when you begin to learn, you will see all my secrets. All the painful stories I have not been able to speak of. And I… I am afraid. I am afraid you will draw away when you see, firsthand, the truth of me.”

Harry cupped Azrael’s cheeks and whispered, “I will never abandon you. I will never turn you away. Whatever you were in the past, you’re good and loving and wonderful now. You’ve always been good and wonderful and loving to me.” He kissed Azrael’s forehead. “I love you. I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

Azrael shuddered and laid his hands over Harry’s. “You will promise me this?”

“I’ll give you a wizard’s oath if it makes you feel better.”

Azrael let slip a shaky sigh. “No, no. There’s no need to—I trust you. I am only so very afraid.”

Harry traced his thumb across Azrael’s jawline. “I won’t leave you. I swear it.”

Azrael withdrew with a sigh. “If I am to teach you legilimency, we should begin sooner rather than later. Like occlumency, it is a difficult skill.”

“Sure. We’ll save our talks about your past for those nights then, if you want. You can tell me about the memories as we see them.”

Azrael clung to Harry's hands. “You truly will not leave me?”

“No, Az. I _know_ the truth of you, and it's beautiful. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Very well.” Azrael took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “The first step to learning legilimency is the understanding that minds are not like books. You cannot simply _read_ someone’s mind. The images are loose, fragmented, even when you begin to see. The true skill comes in pulling those fragments together to make a coherent—and correct—memory.”

“Right. So how do we start, then?”

“How does one always begin with mind magic? Clear your mind.”

Harry chuckled and obeyed.

* * *

Besides being away from Gulliver and closer to Severus, staying in Grimmauld Place over the hols had allowed Harry to _finally_ read his yokai book. He hadn’t dared even bring it out of his trunk at school, not with Umbridge and Gulliver roaming the halls and looking for any excuse to take him down. And, by Merlin, he could hardly stop reading once he started. 

Everything fascinated him. Granted, not all of the information applied to Severus—the book covered most types of yokai, including truly evil varieties, so none of those chapters fit Harry’s friend. The information on dark, canine, and angelic classes, however, Harry devoured. Though Severus had tamed his dark side long ago, the lessons still taught Harry much about his past and how to understand him better. And the information about angelic races helped Harry understand the depth of Severus’ love, his loyalty and honour, and made him fall deeper in love with the yokai with every word. 

Then, Harry found the chapter on yokai mates and his world crashed to a halt.  

 

_‘When love acknowledges you as good and right,_

_When love accepts you, both darkness and light,_

_Then love will see you, with true lover’s sight.’_

 

_Only a true mate of a yokai will ever see through their glamours. No invisibility spell, no potion, no glamour will work on the mate of a yokai or vice versa—but only if said mate accepts their chosen yokai as good and loves them regardless of what they may or may not be. Only if that person is able to accept both the dark and light traits within their chosen mate and love them unconditionally will lover’s sight occur._

_Once the chosen mate learns the truth about their yokai, if they still accept them as good and worthy, the sight will remain and nothing will break it. If they turn their mate away, they will forget what they have seen and the mark of bonds will disappear from their soul forever._

 

Harry dropped his book with a gasp. “ _Mate_? Oh gods, he’s my _mate_?”

Well. That certainly explained a lot.

Did Severus know? Perhaps he was scared to admit it. _‘If they turn their mate away, they will forget what they have seen….’_

Merlin. Harry would be afraid in his shoes, too. 

Well, somehow, he would find a way to reassure Severus without getting him in trouble. Soon. 

With a giddy heart, he continued reading, learning ways to please Severus and ways to keep them both happy throughout their lifespans.

Lifespans. Oh, damn. Severus’ kind lived for over a thousand years. After all, his mum had taken a false mate for companionship because she had lived for five-hundred years alone and was tired of waiting. It hadn’t served her well, but Severus had been fortunate, if only in this regard. He had found his true mate while he was still young. 

And yet, if Harry’s unknown race didn’t come with longevity too, what would happen to Severus after Harry died? 

Gods, that was a terrifying thought.

He read on and breathed a sigh of relief and pain at once. If a yokai’s mate was human or a race without their long lifespan, they would be able to find a new mate sometime after the first’s death. 

So Severus wouldn't be doomed to a millennium without love, but even so, the idea of leaving him… no. Harry couldn’t abide by that. He didn’t want to leave him alone. He didn’t want to leave Severus at all.

Merlin, no one else could share their bond. They both understood each other’s darkness in a way no one not involved in this war could ever hope to. How would Severus manage if Harry didn’t last as long as Severus did?

“Gods, I hope I live for a long, long time,” he whispered and returned to his book. 

* * *

It seemed Harry’s race would have a natural predisposition to legilimency, or perhaps his long slog to learn occlumency had paved the way for the opposite practice. A few days into the hols, Harry had begun seeing images in Severus’ mind. And not simply images with no order, but short snatches of memories. It unnerved Severus, and yet, Harry’s love and kindness after every session had slowly begun breaking the yokai out of his shell. 

The first memories Harry saw were simple—all sweet, happy moments he had shared with his dear friend. Playing chess in Privet Drive to ward away loneliness. Laughing together in the park and watching clouds. Snickering over late-night birthday cake and butterbeer on Severus’ thirty-fourth birthday. Harry loved the emotions he sensed with each scene, the devotion he felt from his soon-to-be mate and his joy in sharing happy moments with Harry.

But Harry’s skill grew exponentially, much faster than Severus had expected, and before long, Harry learned how to delve deeper. 

Barely and a week into their training, Harry got far more than he bargained for. It wasn’t much of a scene, just flashes here and there, but the images he saw revealed Severus’ young adult body— _all_ of it—in the throes of passion with another boy. Harry gasped at the sight of him in all his glory, wings thrown back, hair flowing every which way, back arched as a man’s hand stroked the proud erection between his legs. Another image revealed Severus crying out as the same man entered his body, slow and easy, his face tense with concentration and pleasure.

“S-shite,” Harry jerked back, panting, blushing, and hard as a rock. “A-Azrael, damn, I’m so sorry.”

Azrael came up bright red and wide-eyed. “Fuck, Harry, you were _not_ meant to see that yet.”

Harry gasped. “ _Yet_?”

Azrael groaned and covered his face with his hands and wings. “I am sorry. Gods, I am so very sorry. I will not—I did not intend to—forgive me.”

Harry pulled one of Azrael’s hands away and held it to his heart. “Yet?”

“Don’t ask me. Gods, don’t ask me. Please. I cannot—I am content. You are too young, and if I lost you….”

Harry whispered in Azrael’s ear, “If I lost lover’s sight, you mean.”

Azrael froze. “You… what?”

“Azrael, I _know_. That book we talked about in second year, Hermione found it in Japan for me. I’ve been meaning to give it to you, but I couldn’t risk it with Umbridge in the castle and then Gulliver too. This is the first time I’ve had a chance to read it.” Harry ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was never clairvoyant, was I?”

Azrael gave a little mewl of dismay. “Harry, please. I will not ask you for what you cannot give. I… please… please don’t—”

“Oh, Az.” Harry caught the terrified yokai into his arms and kissed his cheek. “Ssh. It’s okay. Listen, sweetheart. I _know_ , and I still see your lovely….” 

He traced a gentle hand down his friend’s wing. Azrael shivered and buried his face into Harry’s shoulder. 

“And these….” He kissed Azrael’s ears in turn and drew a gasp from the yokai trembling in his arms. 

“And this, too.” Harry stroked Azrael’s silky tail, causing him to give a soft whimper—whether of pain, fear, or pleasure, Harry didn’t know.

“Ssh. It’s okay, Az. I know what I am to you. And that’s okay with me.”

Azrael jerked up, eyes wide with shock. “You… you are amenable…?”

“Well, not yet, Az. I can’t be yet. But when it’s safe….” Heat flooded Harry’s face and his hands trembled. “I’d be willing if you are.”

Azrael breathed in harshly. “I… you know. And you _accept_ me?”

Harry whispered in his ear, “Y-yeah, Sev.”

Azrael threw his arms around Harry and caught him into a fierce embrace, tears dripping hot and fast down his face and into Harry’s collar. “I never thought… I never dreamed….”

“Ssh. We can’t talk about it yet. Can you wait another year or so?”

Azrael shuddered. “Y-yes, yes. Forgive me. I was only overwhelmed.”

“It’s all right. So was I, a bit.” Face and ears flaming, Harry whispered in Azrael’s ear, “And I never want to hear you tell me you’re not beautiful again. You have _no_ reason to be ashamed.”

Azrael’s ears lay flat and his cheeks flushed. “H-Harry, I think that is not safe to say. Not yet.”

“Okay. But just so you know.” Harry took Azrael’s hand and held it in his lap. “Who was the man? Can you tell me about him? Were you in love?”

Azrael coughed. “Oh, Merlin. Love is… a stretch. We were companions of a sort. It was a dark time for both of us, and he… well, we were both spies in enemy territory.”

“Both?”

“Yes. That was Regulus Black, the mutt’s younger brother.”

“ _Merlin_. And you two…?”

Azrael turned redder. “Ah… well, y-yes. He was not cruel to me, not like the mutt.”

“Good to know the entire family isn’t irredeemable.”

Azrael flinched. “Harry, he is long-since dead. He died on an undercover mission. I never knew what killed him—it was not the Dark Lord, not publicly, at least.”

 Harry cringed at a sharp wave of grief—gods, even for a man he had never known. “S-so you lost him, too.”

“Yes. He was barely nineteen.”

Harry tugged Azrael back into his arms and kissed the tip of his ear. “You won’t lose me.”

Azrael clung tightly to him and shuddered. “See that I don’t.”

* * *

The next morning, Black and Lupin looked triumphant when Harry went down to breakfast. All his senses came on alert.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the dunderhead duo. “What have you two done?”

Black scoffed. “I don’t think it’s _us_ you should be worrying about.”

Harry stared at them, eyes sharp. “Anything that makes you two look like _that_ is cause for concern, considering your track record. So, who did you torture this time then?”

“Harry!” Lupin gave him a hurt look. “That’s not fair. Not fair at all.”

“I’m willing to bet Professor Snape could argue that. Vociferously.”

Black’s eyes unfocused. “Er… what?”

Harry snorted and went to Molly while Lupin was distracted with trying to explain his extensive vocabulary to Black. “Mum, Black and Lupin are up to something. I don’t know _what_ , but they’re acting altogether too satisfied, and I don’t like it.”

Molly flushed and dropped her rolling pin, sending bits of scone dough all over. “Oh! Merlin, I’m sorry, Harry.”

But she didn’t meet his eyes, and Harry’s suspicions only doubled. “Mum, are you feeling all right?”

She gave him a wan smile and summoned her rolling pin. “Of course, of course. You only startled me a bit. Go and sit with the others. Breakfast will be ready in a moment.”

“Er… you’re sure?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“All right, I suppose.” He sat between Azrael and Ron, his expression bemused. “Do either of you two know why the mutts look like they’ve won the grand prize in the All-England Biggest Prat Contest and Mum is dropping food? That’s pretty much an unforgiveable sin in her kitchen, so….”

“Yeah,” said Ron with a shake of his head. “Well, no, we’ve no idea what’s going on, but Mum isn’t the only one acting odd. Dad’s been giving Az strange looks and blushing every five minutes. And Bill is jumping at every sound. They’re all a bit wonky today, if you ask me.”

“They’ve done something,” Harry said with a grimace. “Black and Lupin. Any way they could dose those three behind their backs?”

“Arthur, perhaps,” said Azrael with a shake of his head, “but Molly is too skilled in potions herself to be fooled, and Bill is a curse breaker. Neither are easy targets.”

“Maybe not, Az,” said a grim Ron, “but those gits have enough experience in ‘pranking’ people to slip something by them. Even Mum has her weaknesses, and they know it.”

Harry shuddered. “Gods. I hope they’re okay.”

“So do we all,” Azrael said, his expression full of worry.

Hermione came in looking confused and sat beside Azrael. “Harry, Azrael, I think you should be on guard. The mutts are looking _awfully_ pleased about something today.”

“Yeah, we’ve all been talking about it just now.” Harry shook his head. “Well, we’ll just have to be careful, okay? Az and I have some protections, but you two need to watch out for yourselves.”

Azrael frowned. “Ron, Hermione, I think I will make charms for the two of you as well soon, come to think of it. You are too close to Harry not to be in… collateral danger, so to speak, and you are also my friends.” He flushed and dropped his head in embarrassment. “I would be… distraught if you were to come to harm.”

Hermione gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Azrael. We feel the same for you.”

Ron nodded in solidarity. “You’re one of us now, mate. Whether you like it or not.”

Azrael chuckled softly, his face still pink and his eyes soft. “I… it is the first time I have experienced such unconditional acceptance. I am thankful for your regard.”

Harry rubbed the man’s back and kissed his cheek. “We love you, Az. You’re stuck with us.”

Azrael smiled, his expression warm and deeply affectionate and his eyes focused solely on Harry. “I am not averse to your presence.”

“Good.” Harry frowned at the look of worry Molly shot over her shoulder. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

She flinched and went back to her baking. “Oh, nothing, dear.” She flicked her wand, and a batch of fresh cranberry-orange scones sailed out of the oven, removed themselves from the pan, and settled in a basket on the table. Another flick sent four glasses and a pitcher of pumpkin juice sailing their way, along with a dish of clotted cream and another of fresh butter. “There you are, dearies. You may have a couple of those apiece while I get the eggs going.”

Harry stood. “May I help, Mum?”

She sent him a dark look. “Not this time. You’ve been made to help with breakfast too much.” Her smile softened. “But if you like, you can help me with dinner tonight. Perhaps we might try one of your recipes?”

Harry grinned. “I’ve a lovely one for shrimp paella, if you think that would work?”

“That sounds delicious, dear. I’ll just need to pick up a few spices at the market—I don’t think we have any saffron.”

“I have some,” Azrael said with a shy smile. “I’ve most spices and herbs on hand.”

Molly’s smile faded a bit. “Ah, well, if it’s for the Order, dear, you should probably keep what you have for your own purposes. I don’t mind buying some.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. Molly Weasley, who had learned her incredible resourcefulness at the hand of poverty, didn’t mind buying one of the most expensive spices in the world when Azrael had a perfectly good supply and had offered the use of it freely? Merlin, something was definitely off about this situation. 

Azrael slumped forwards, his ears drooping and eyes downcast. “Oh. Well, if you would prefer to purchase it yourself, then I shan’t interfere.”

Harry stroked the distraught Tengu’s hair, wondering again what on earth had gotten into Molly. “Az, shh. I’m sure she didn’t mean to imply that she doesn’t trust you or anything like that.”

Harry frowned at Molly’s almost imperceptible twitch. By the way Azrael lowered his head and curled in on himself, he judged that was _exactly_ what she had meant to imply, but gods! Last night, she had trusted him just fine. What on earth had happened?

The mutts strutted into the kitchen just then, Black wearing a smug grin and Lupin a satisfied smile. Ah. 

Harry stood, eyes flashing. “What on earth did you two _do_? What foul lies did you tell her about him?”

“We didn’t tell her any lies,” said Lupin with a too-innocent expression. 

Black smirked and grabbed a scone. “Not a one.”

“Idiots,” Harry snapped. “You must think we’re all blind. It’s blatantly obvious you two have been meddling.” He turned to Azrael and smoothed his hair down his back. “Hey, it’s okay, Az. Just ignore those two dolts. Mum knows you’re a good man and that those two are lying, conniving, manipulative little twits who would do or say anything to make themselves look like avenging angels and separate me from you.”

Black choked out around a mouthful of scone, “Oi!”

“Whatever they’ve said or done,” said Harry without acknowledging the mutt, “the truth will make itself known soon enough. It’ll be okay. You’re not alone.”

Ron passed a saucer with a couple of scones to Azrael and reached around Harry to pat the tengu’s back. “Buck up, mate. Have a scone and a bit of coffee. It’ll make you feel better. And we’ll have a _chat_ with Mum after breakfast—don’t worry.”

Molly turned, her cheeks pink, and bowed her head. “I… Merlin, you two make a good point. I’ve never considered their rot before. Why should I make a start of it now?”

Lupin shot her a betrayed look. “Molly! That’s completely unfair.”

Black gave him a reassuring pat to the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Moony. Like Harry said, the truth will soon out.”

Harry glared at them. “You two have done something. I know it.”

“ _We’re_ not the ones you need to watch out for,” said Lupin with a scowl.

Azrael sniffed. “I am not going to dignify that ridiculous comment with a response.” Instead, he grabbed his favourite mug from the cabinets and poured himself a cup of coffee. 

Once Azrael returned to his seat, Harry spooned a dollop of cream and one sugar into his mate's coffee, knowing by now Azrael liked it that way. “Just ignore the prats. Molly wouldn’t have let them anywhere near our breakfast, so we should be safe to eat, at least. We’ll just have to keep vigilant on everything else.”

Azrael smiled hesitantly. “Thank you, Harry. I believe you.”

“Good.” Harry poured some pumpkin juice into the mug he liked—a cup with a wonky handle that reminded him of a snake he had primarily chosen because Black hated it—and buttered a scone. He couldn’t resist taking a bite and nearly melted at the flavour. “Merlin, Mum. Is the recipe for these in the book you gave me? These are brilliant.”

Molly paused stirring a giant skillet full of scrambled eggs long enough to beam at Harry. “Glad you like them. I think they’re in the holiday section. I tend to serve them near Christmas.”

“Explains why I’ve not yet had them, then.” He took another bite and savoured it. “They’re so tangy. Do they have anything besides the orange to give them that flavour?”

She winked. “You’ll have to read the recipe and find out.”

Harry chuckled and finished off his scone. “Definitely.” 

Azrael wiped his mouth after devouring one of the scones himself. “They _are_ excellent. I would not mind having these every day, not merely at Christmas.”

Harry gave him a gentle smile. “Well, maybe I can work on that.”

Azrael blushed slightly and nodded. “Perhaps.”

Harry buttered another scone for himself and went to wash the last one down with a bit of his juice, but stopped at the sight of Azrael lifting his coffee mug to his lips and his pendant glowing red through his robes. The pendant Harry had worn in second year. The pendant that prevented poisonings.

Harry snatched Azrael’s coffee away, careful not to spill it in case whatever the prats had used was corrosive. “Stop!”

Azrael’s eyes widened. “Harry?”

Harry tapped the man’s neck. “They’ve spiked your cup with something. Something _bad_. The pendant I gave you in second year is glowing.”

Azrael’s expression turned dark. “ _Is_ it, now?” He reached for Harry’s cup and lifted it to his lips as if he would take a drink. As before, his pendant glowed.

“Don’t. It’s poisoned too.”

Molly shrieked, “ _Poisoned_!”

Black coughed and tugged at his collar. “Er… no, no. Of course it’s not _poisoned_.”

Molly’s eyes pinned him like a bug on a card. “And how, precisely, would you know that unless you were the one to _alter_ his drink?”

Black coughed again and turned red. Lupin sank further into his seat. 

“I-it’s just that no one dangerous can get past the _Fidelius_ , Molly! So it couldn’t be poisoned.”

“Is that _so_? Then how is it that Azrael, whom you insist is dangerous, could get past said _Fidelius_?”

Black flushed. “Well, he’s here with Albus’ blessing, isn’t he? Even Albus can be wrong sometimes.”

Her glare could have melted steel. “Black, I have seven children, two of whom are the most inventive little terrors in human history.”

Fred and George raised their glasses in a toast, though they didn’t drink. “Cheers, Mum,” they said at the same time.

She gave them a look somewhere between fondness and exasperation, then fixed her ire back on Black and Lupin, wooden spoon brandished like a weapon. “After living through those two, if you think I don’t know how to spot guilt from ten kilometres, you’re sadly mistaken.” She grabbed them both by the ear and dragged them out of the kitchen, lambasting them the entire way.

Harry couldn’t help but snicker into his hands. “Oh, Merlin. We should add that memory to your pensieve, Az. Just so we can see them getting hauled out of here like recalcitrant brats over and over and over….”

Azrael laughed in spite of himself. “Indeed.” His mirth faded quickly. “Everyone, I will need to take your drinks to the lab. I must test them and see what they have done to us.”

“We can help,” said Fred.

George nodded. “We’ve loads of experience—”

“—With spiked drinks, after all.”

“I daresay you do,” said an amused Azrael. “As long as you keep your pranks to a minimum during the tests. This is quite serious, and altering an already poisoned drink could prove deadly.”

“Yes, sir,” said both twins at once.

Azrael placed everyone’s drinks on a tray, avoiding using magic in case it interfered with the tests. Harry stood and hovered nearby. 

“Azrael, I know I’m not as good at potions as you are, but can I come anyway? I won’t get in the way. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Azrael opened his mouth as if he might protest, but at the look in Harry’s eyes, relented with a sigh. “Promise me you will stay far from the testing. Please. Whatever they have dosed these with is most likely attuned to us. I am able to avoid it, I hope, but I fear for you.” He tapped the pendant at his neck and whispered into Harry’s mind, _[I am not positive the pendant I made will work any longer, as you are not human. Albus tweaked mine, but I do not know how to alter yours yet. Please, be careful.]_

Harry nodded, solemn and resolute. “I swear it, Az.”

Azrael ran a hand through Harry’s hair. “Thank you.” He looked up. “Ron, will you inform your mother that the twins, Harry, and myself have gone to test everyone’s cups?”

“Sure thing. Are you okay, though? You didn’t drink any of that, did you?”

Azrael nodded. “I have a charm which prevents poisoning. So does Harry. They would not have gotten far with whatever trick they had planned even if Harry had not noticed.”

“Good to know,” said Hermione with a sigh of relief.

Azrael patted their shoulders, then lifted the tray with everyone’s cups and carried it to the lab, Harry and the twins following in his wake.

* * *

Severus’ testing revealed several serious offences from the mutts. Molly, Bill, and Arthur’s cups had been dosed with mild compulsion potions keyed to remove their suspicions of Black and Lupin and increase their distrust of Azrael, which would have also increased their distrust of his true self. It relieved him to know Molly hadn’t mistrusted and refused him of her own will, but not by much. 

The potion in Harry and Severus’ own cups might have killed them had they taken it. Both cups had a minor truth potion—too much of it, but even that wouldn’t have been fatal in and of itself. In normal circumstances, the effects would have been mild enough for Harry and Severus to occlude away until the potion ran its course, assuming they hadn’t expelled the too-high dosage from their stomachs upon contact. It certainly wouldn’t have been severe enough to trigger Severus’ pendant— _if_ they had not just eaten cranberries. Cranberries and lesser truth potions didn’t play well together. At all.

A grim-faced Severus, still in Azrael’s guise, led the twins and Harry to meet Molly, who had locked both mutts in the cellar until she knew how grave their offence had been. 

She winced at the sight of him. “It’s not good, is it?”

Azrael nodded. “I do not think they intended the results to be as dark as they would have been, but no, it is not good. If not for my pendant and the fact that Harry caught it glowing before he drank, we might both have been killed, and in an excruciating manner.”

Molly put her hand to her mouth and tears filled her eyes. “Oh, gods. Oh, _gods_. I nearly lost you both.”

Harry gave the woman a hug. “Ssh. We’re okay. It’s all right.”

Her tears gave way to righteous wrath, and she wiped her face with a handkerchief. “No, Harry, it’s most certainly _not_ all right. This is too far.” She motioned to Azrael. “Come. I believe we have some questioning to do. You do have Veritaserum on hand?”

Azrael froze. “Why would you assume I carry Veritaserum on my person, Molly?”

 She shot him a wry look and cast a silencing charm. “The moment I realised you were carrying out the tests on the poisons yourself rather than calling for Severus’ aid, I knew. No one but Severus himself would have the talent to analyse their tricks, and you’re not foolish enough to risk it without the confidence that you could manage on your own. Then there’s the fact that you’re never here together—it’s always either Severus or Azrael, never both. So, yes, I was able to piece together the truth, Severus.”

Azrael reeled, eyes wide and heart pounding. “Y-you know? And you are not angry?”

She lifted a gentle hand to his face and carefully tucked his hair behind his glamoured human ear. “Well, I was a bit shocked at first, but now that I’m past that stage, I’m _relieved_. I’ve been so worried about you, about Harry and the way you have to treat him. Knowing that you love him, that you’re really a gentle person under the sarcasm and aloof nature, and knowing that you’re not alone any longer is… yes, I’m relieved.”

He had to blink back tears. “I… Molly….”

She patted his shoulder. “It’s all right. You’re safe with us, Severus.”

He took a deep breath and nodded tersely, struggling to control a wave of shock and wonder and the overwhelming emotion in his chest. Harry’s gentle hand at his back helped him ground himself, and after a moment, he gave her Azrael’s hesitant smile and waved towards the cellar door. 

“Thank you for your understanding, Molly. For now, maybe we should interrogate them? They may have other plans.”

“Which would be why I asked for the Veritaserum. Do you have some?”

He shook his head. “We could not use it on them legally without causing ourselves all manner of trouble and giving them grounds to interfere at the Ministry, or rather, Lupin. But I do have a certain spell that the Ministry has no knowledge of, and the mutts should not be able to detect its presence regardless.”

Harry frowned. “Won’t they realise they’re under a spell or potion when they suddenly start telling the truth?”

“As the spell does not actually force them into honesty, but rather convinces them that it is better to come clean than incur further wrath, I doubt it.”

“And it won’t get you in trouble?”

“No, Harry. I would not risk it.”

Harry nodded. “Sev, you should go in as yourself. Molly made a good point about the testing. If you pretend as though you called Sev as soon as you got the samples to the lab, they won’t be able to draw the same conclusions Mum did. And the prats already know about our friendship.”

Azrael ran his hand through Harry’s hair. “Thank you.” He dropped his Azrael disguise and looked to Molly, his dark eyes full of worry and nervous tension. “I… I am sorry for the deception, Molly. It is a guise to keep my cover when anyone in the Order may be a spy.”

She gave him a searching look. “You’re being rather forthright for someone who believes any one of us might be a turncoat in disguise.”

Severus lowered his gaze. “I trust you and your family implicitly. You love Harry, and you know he loves me. You would not harm me because you would not harm him.”

She squeezed his wrist. “And because we care about you. At least, Arthur, Bill, and I do. The twins admire you in spite of your tongue. And those who know your secrets like you quite well, too. So, no, I wouldn’t hurt you, but it has more to do with the fact that I care about _you_ as a person rather than my love for my sons.”

Severus covered his face with a shaking hand so she mightn’t see how strongly her words had affected him. Harry brought him into his arms and kissed his ears and hair. 

“Ssh. It’s all right, Sev. It’s okay. I told you, you’re worthy of love. It’s true, and I’m not the only one who thinks so now. So you can’t deny it any longer.”

“Y-yes.” Severus trembled in Harry’s arms and clutched him tight, struggling to get his emotions under control. He couldn’t show his face like this, and any moment, someone might walk in. He had to pull himself together.

Harry whispered against his ear, “It’s okay. You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this. Lean on me. I’ll support you.”

Severus took a shaky breath, and with Harry’s love to aid him, Occluded his intense emotions away. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are you ready?”

Severus kissed Harry’s cheek and stood tall. “I am.” He adopted his most threatening persona, and Harry squeezed his hand with a nod. 

“There’s the Professor Snape we all know and love. Let’s go.”

Severus nodded and turned to the door. “Black, Lupin, you have some explaining to do.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Molly with a huff. 

Severus led Harry into the room by his hand, smirking at the twin scowls on the idiots’ faces. Molly had tied them both to chairs in the corners of the room, two metres apart and with a soundproof, opaque wall between them, preventing any _plotting_. Severus snorted and took down the wall so both could hear him at the same time, though he had every intention of erecting it again should they annoy him further.

Harry closed the door behind them and glared at the mutts, his eyes sharp with fire and hatred. “You could have killed him. You could have killed _me_. And for _what_?”

“K-k-killed you?” Lupin had gone the colour of ash. “No, Merlin, no.”

Black scoffed. “We’re not _that_ evil.” The way he looked at Severus made his thoughts of Severus’ honour clear.

“Aren’t you?” Severus glared at Black. “I seem to remember a certain idiot who took great pleasure in sending me to meet a fully-transformed werewolf unprepared, but then, perhaps I might have survived such a meeting. Of course, I never would have recovered, but that did not matter to you, did it?”

Molly puffed up in rage. “You have no right to accuse Severus of such things, Black. Your reckless behaviour nearly cost us a dear ally and my surrogate son.”

“ _What_?” Black choked, “B-but I’d never hurt Harry!”

“No, just Azrael,” said Harry with a growl.

Black coughed and looked away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Lupin with a thin smile. “Of course we’d never hurt Harry, and we would certainly never sink so low as to kill an innocent man.”

“Wouldn’t you? I seem to also remember a certain werewolf passing over his potion on the full moon and then placing himself in the proximity of students and professors, but I digress.” Severus whirled to pace, and in the motion, wandlessly threw the conscience spell at the mutts. As the charm gave off no spell light, neither idiot saw it coming. “Now, after realising you had poisoned Azrael and Harry, Azrael called me in on an emergent basis to analyse the traces in everyone’s drinks. And the results were chilling. To start with, I found traces of liquid compulsions in the cups of Molly, Bill, and Arthur, compulsions keyed to make them more distrustful of Azrael and less suspicious of you.”

“He dosed _us_ , too?” Molly’s eyes turned murderous. “They used dark potions on us?”

Harry shot a silencing spell at the shouting mutts so Severus could be heard over their protests.

“Thank you, Harry,” Severus said with a nod. “And no, Molly, the potions they used weren’t quite strong enough to qualify as dark. If you were able to occlude—which I must ask that you learn to do as soon as possible—”

She nodded in grim understanding. “I’ll ask Bill to help me. Arthur, too.”

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, if you had known how to occlude, you could have easily identified a foreign trigger directing your thoughts and emotions and isolated it, therefore, protecting yourself from its effects. As well, the mere suggestion that you were acting out of character was enough to give you the power to overcome the compulsions on your own, occlumency or no. That indicates it is not a powerful enough potion to be considered a crime.” 

Molly shuddered. “Crime or no, it was still extremely dangerous. We might have exposed Azrael because of this idiocy, even if the poison hadn’t killed him first.”

“It was quite dangerous indeed.” Severus whirled to face the bastards, his temper blazing and his expression cold as ice. “ _So_ … which of you two murderous fools would like to tell me why you thought it a grand idea to kill Azrael and my dearest friend in cold blood through sheer ineptitude?” He released the silencing charms and began the interrogation.

* * *

Though it took over three hours of questioning, Severus, Harry, and Molly eventually rooted out the mutts’ plans and motives. Not that they didn’t already know about the latter, but Severus’ interrogation also uncovered more dangerous knowledge. They had bugged Azrael’s bedroom, and as a result, learned through the alteration of his voice, that he was acting under an alias. Thank the gods Harry and Azrael always met in Harry's room, or it could have been much worse.

“Look,” Lupin said in a weary tone, “we only meant to protect Harry. And it’s good we did, because Azrael is a liar! He’s not—he’s not who he says he is, and Harry doesn’t know!”

Harry broke into laughter. “Gods, you two are pathetic. Of course I know about his alias. I was there when he invented it.”

Lupin blanched. “You… you knew?”

“Obviously.”

His face screwed up in anger. “Well, then he’s still been lying to the rest of us! What about Albus, huh?”

“Albus knows as well,” said Harry with a shrug. “As do most of the Weasleys. No one else is here enough to work it out.”

Severus levelled his coldest glare at the mutts. “Azrael invented said alias as a way to protect himself from those who would harm him if they knew the truth of him—jealous fools such as yourself, for example—and you have compromised it. You have compromised the safety of the entire Order for nothing more than jealous suspicion and petty revenge.”

“We were _trying_ to protect Harry,” Black insisted, who apparently didn’t have enough of a conscience to react to the truth spell. 

“No, Black, you were trying to _separate_ Harry from Azrael.” Severus pinned them both with a vicious glare in turn. “I wonder if I should not take care to test my own food and drink for tampering each time I am within your vicinity, given this.”

“Why should we dose _you_?” Black scoffed. “Harry will see the truth of you eventually. No one could _really_ love a—”

“ _Silencio_!” Molly’s fierce curse hit so hard, Black crashed into the wall behind him. “You shut your lying, foul mouth this _instant_. Severus _is_ loved. By Harry, the twins, and myself, just to start with. Minerva and Albus. Filius. He is _not_ alone by any means. And I will not stand here and allow you to malign and hurt him with your vicious lies.”

“Molly,” Severus breathed, shaken to his core. 

Harry took the yokai’s hand and held it to his heart. “I told you, Severus. You’re worthy of love. Those two, they’re a couple of blind idiots who’re too stupid even to read the warning label on your potions before they nick them and dump half the phial into their own supposed godson’s morning pumpkin juice, right after watching him eat the one thing it has a fatal reaction with. Gods, I knew better than to do that kind of idiotic rubbish before I was five!”

“Harry,” Lupin started, but Molly cursed him into silence, too.

“I have had about _enough_ of you, both of you! Shut it and let Harry speak.”

Harry grinned. “Merlin, Mum. Remind me never to get on your bad side. Even your silencing charms are scary.”

She chuckled. “Well, having seven children, you learn to be quick with a wand. Now, go on, love. Severus needs to hear it. And so do those two fools.”

Harry nodded and took Severus’ hands in his own. “I love you, Sev. Dearly. You’re my best friend, my mentor, my confidant….” Mentally, he added, _[my beloved mate.]_ “There’s no one closer to my heart than you. And I know your dark secrets, I know your past. I accept you, as you are. And nothing, _nothing_ , those two imbeciles do or say will ever change that. Not a whit, you hear me? You’re stuck with me for life. And so is Azrael.”

“You’re stuck with all of us, Severus,” said Molly with a gentle smile. “So don’t trouble yourself with what these two ignoramuses think, dear. You’re family now, and that means you’ll always be loved.”

Tears pooled on Severus’ lashes, but he closed his eyes to hold them back. Damned if he would weep in front of the mutts. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice rough.

Harry hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Severus whispered into Harry’s mind, _[You heal me, my friend.]_

_[Your mate.]_

Severus nuzzled Harry’s forehead, but did not reply. He couldn’t reply, not yet. 

Molly gave them a searching look. “Severus, are we finished with these two?”

“With the interrogation? Yes. I will need to speak to Albus concerning their punishment and whether such foolish imbeciles are worthy of a place within the Order, but I have no wish to speak to them further.”

“Well, _I_ have something to say,” Harry said in a dark voice. “You two, you’ve gone too far. Yet again, your stupid obsession nearly cost me my life. It nearly cost Azrael his. If not for Severus’ forethought in making the both of us special pendants to prevent poisoning, we’d both be dead due to your underhanded schemes to _protect_ me. There’s a reason the Ministry stopped using Claritaserum after Severus invented Veritaserum, after all.”

He stood tall and stared the mutts down, both sitting hunched with their tails between their legs. “The Order needs all the able bodies it can get, so I won’t tell Albus to get rid of you though you deserve it.”

They gave him hopeful looks, but Harry only glared harder. “But I’m not letting you off either. Over the past two years, the two of you have endangered my life more times than Riddle and the Death Eaters. So I’m putting you on the same level of threat. If you attempt to speak to me, if you come anywhere _near_ me or my friends, you’ll be cursed. Immediately. And I’ve trained with Severus and the headmaster for nearly three years, so don’t think you’ll evade me because I’m young. I won’t pull my punches, either.”

Harry aimed his wand at Lupin’s head. “Stay the hell away from me. Stay away from Az. From Sev. From Ron and Hermione. Just stay away from us. And the next time you try to put my family under dark spells or poison us, you can expect a thrashing on the level of what I would dish out to Lucius Malfoy if he attempted to hurt me. I won’t kill you, but you’ll be missing quite a bit of your hides when I’m through with you. And before you think you’ll be clear to come after me in the summer, recall that Azrael and Severus have trained me in Muggle combat, too. I don’t need a wand to beat the snot out of you, and I won’t hesitate to do it the next time you come anywhere near me unless there’s a dire emergency. Are we clear?” 

They shook their heads wildly, and Harry hit them both with a Bat Bogey curse even Ginny would have been proud of. 

“It was a _rhetorical_ question, idiots. You don’t get a choice.”

Molly huffed. “Go on, Harry, Severus. I’ll inform Albus of your decision and their crimes. In the meantime, we’ll just see how long it takes these two to break out of that curse while silenced and restrained, hmm?”

Harry gave her a dark smile. “You’re brilliant, Mum. I’m not like them, though. If they haven’t broken out in ten minutes, cast the counter, please.”

“I will, dear. Go on.”

“Yes, Mum.”

Harry led Severus out by his hand.

* * *

Harry stuck to his word concerning the mutts, and after being hit with nearly every non-lethal hex, jinx, and curse in existence, they finally learned to keep their distance. Harry doubted they had stopped plotting, but at least he could enjoy the last few days of the Christmas hols without the moronic mutts butting in. And Severus had put charms on all of their rooms to destroy any listening or spying device placed inside and curse the prats who tried it, so Harry felt safe in their rooms again, too. 

After exchanging their gifts in private—a cloak with protections against the _Cruciatus_ curse for Severus and a bracelet to boost occlumency powers for Harry—they spent the evening talking and playing chess, simply enjoying each other’s company for that one, short moment.

The next night, they resumed legilimency lessons. And Harry soon wished they hadn’t. Black and Lupin’s latest escapades must have brought Severus’ trauma close to mind, as the first image Harry saw revealed Severus hanging upside down, bare body on display, and his own father wielding his wand and smirking at the sight of him, as if he had worse plans in mind.

Severus evicted Harry from his mind with a gasp. “No. No, I do not… that is one memory I cannot allow you to see.”

Harry stared, heart pounding and breath hitching in his throat. “Sev… oh, gods. Did they…? Was it… as bad as it looks?”

Severus shuddered. “Oh, child. I… I am unsure it is wise to speak of it. You are already angry at Black and Lupin, so revealing them as the monsters they were will not harm you, but your parents….”

“I’m hacked off at them, too. I already know they were prats and they hurt you. Can you tell me about it?”

Severus sighed. “I will do, but I may need—I am uncertain it is wise to touch me closely while I speak of it. Please. I may not be able to….”

Harry’s heart lurched. “Mother of Merlin.” He guided Severus to the bed and sat beside him, taking his friend’s hand, but not touching him in any other way. “Is this all right? You can move closer if you want to, or away if you need to, but I won’t hold you or anything unless you ask me to.”

“Yes,” Severus whispered. “That is… comforting.” 

“Yeah, I’ve got you. Now, if you can, talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

“V-very well. I had gone out to the lake to review my answers for my runes OWL. It was, at the time, the one subject I struggled with, and I feared I had not done well.” He took in a shaky breath. “But after a few moments, the Marauders came along. They… began with their usual taunts, and I faced them down. I was afraid—it was four-on-one and I was far from the school. I could not depend on anyone to protect me, and though I might have defeated them all had I used my true abilities, it would have meant my death, in the end.”

Harry stroked his thumb across Severus’ knuckles. “I’m here.”

Severus squeezed his hands. “I know.” He shivered and laid his head against Harry’s shoulder. “I think I wish to be closer after all.”

“That’s okay, Sev. I have you. It’s all right.”

“Yes.” Severus trembled against him and murmured into Harry’s shoulder. “You recall that I told you Lily and I had been arguing frequently that year and why? Well, she came then, and I was already angry. Potter was tormenting me, taunting me right in front of her, and _this_ was the boy she chose?” He huffed and squeezed Harry’s hands. “Forgive me. I know they are your parents, but you—you are nothing like either of them.”

“It’s okay. You’re not hurting me, Severus. I never knew them, but I love you. So don’t be afraid to tell me the truth.”

“T-thank you.” Severus took in a shaky breath. “I lashed out. I told her I needed no assistance from a Potter compatriot and… I called her a vicious slur. I never should have done.”

“What was it, Sev?”

He shivered. “M-mudblood. I have always hated myself for it.”

Harry lifted his hands to Severus’ face and carefully brushed his tears away. “Ssh. You were angry, and she was acting like all the Muggles who had betrayed you over and over. Even if I don’t hold those beliefs and never have, I can understand why you felt that way at the time. It’s all right. I forgive you, I love you, and I always will.”

Severus whimpered into Harry’s shoulder. “I have wished to hear that my entire life.” 

“I forgive you, Sev.” Harry pressed a light kiss to his forehead and moved back, just in case he felt crowded. “It’s okay. It’s over now.”

Severus breathed in harshly and wrapped his arms and wings around Harry. “Thank you. Merlin, thank you.”

“It’s nothing to thank me for. It’s what should have been said a long time ago.” Harry brushed a fresh stream of tears away and tucked the yokai’s hair behind his shoulder. “I’m here, Sev. Can you tell me the rest, or do we need to stop here?”

Severus shivered. “I think I would rather finish this quickly than otherwise.” He took a deep breath, moved back, and clutched Harry’s hands in his own, holding them against his chest. “I… after I lashed out at Lily, she left me to the Marauders’ devices. And I knew what a mistake I had made then. I was not only alone and outnumbered, but they were angry with me.”

He shuddered. “So they… they used the levitation spell I invented against me. I dressed in robes at the time, with no trousers underneath, so my underwear was on display. And they… they mocked me. Mocked my body hair—even then, I had quite a lot—and my scars. They tormented me. And when I did not break, they… they removed my underwear too and mocked the rest of me. Even then, it was not enough. They cursed me… whips and chains against my bare body—my wings too, though they could not see them. And I still bear the scars.”

Harry didn’t know how Severus would react to a hug while reliving such trauma, so he only squeezed the yokai’s hands and whispered love and comfort to him. 

“Oh, _Severus_. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down Harry’s face. “C-can you tell me… where the scars are?”

“They are, most of them, on my bum and legs. My stomach bears a few as well, and my shoulders. I was able to treat my wings on my own, though it took several months of healing before I trusted them well enough to fly again. Of all of me, the scarring on my wings is the worst.”

Harry searched Severus’ smooth feathers, bemused. “Sev… your wings aren’t scarred that I see.”

“They are, it is only that the feathers cover them. I was able to heal those, at least.”

“Oh.” Harry touched one. “Will you show me your scars?”

Severus flinched. “I cannot show you so much of my body, little one.”

“Oh, Merlin.” Harry’s face flamed. “N-no, I only meant your wings.”

“Ah.” Severus guided Harry’s fingers to the topmost curve of his wing, where small feathers and down covered the bony ridge underneath. “Take care with my feathers, but if you press there, you will feel it, the worst of the scarring.”

Harry obeyed, gently sorting through Severus’ feathers and down until he felt raised welts under his fingers. He traced them far into Severus’ longer feathers and shuddered. 

“Dear gods, Severus. That feels… it’s awful.”

“Yes. No salve save those developed for animals had yet been created for use on wings at the time, and even if I had been able to face Poppy, she would not have been able to heal me regardless. I had little choice but to develop a cure myself, and that took months of painful experimentation. By the time I was able to create a wound healing salve suitable for angelic wings, the scars had set. It did heal the feathers, so at least it no longer hurts to fly.”

“Oh, _Sev_.” Harry held him tighter, wishing he had wings to wrap around his friend, wishing it was safe to hold him with his legs, _anything_ to bring him comfort. Gods, it was inhuman, what he had suffered.

Severus stretched his legs out along the bed and scooted down. The position allowed the tall yokai to tuck his head under Harry’s chin. Harry held him there, one arm around Severus’ back and the other petting his soft ears and hair.

“They broke me, Harry,” Severus continued in a shattered tone. “Perhaps it… does not compare to what Adam endured, but nevertheless, they hurt me, down to my soul, they hurt me. That Lily abandoned me to it and would not accept me back, that they would be so cruel—it hurt worse. They did not use their hands on me, perhaps, but their words and whips scarred me inside and out.” He closed his eyes and turned his face away. “You… deserve more than the broken mess I have become.”

“Severus….” Harry kissed the top of Severus’ head, brushing his lips against his ears lightly, and caressed his hair and cheek. “No. You’re… well, you know what I mean. I still want what we have planned. I still see you just as you are. I still love you dearly. Nothing has changed, and nothing ever will.”

Severus shook his head a little, his entire body shaking with either fear or denial.

Harry cupped Severus’ face and lifted him so he could look into his friend’s tearful, dark eyes. “Listen to me, Sev. You are _beautiful_. Every bit of you is lovely. You’re slender and strong and handsome. Tall and agile. And this hair of yours….” He touched the yokai’s chest, just a light caress to let him know Harry wasn’t repulsed. “I probably shouldn’t say it as I’m your student still, but it’s dead sexy. So don’t be ashamed of yourself, okay? There’s nothing to be ashamed _of_. You’re perfect as you are, scars or no.”

Tears poured down Severus’ face. “N-no. I cannot be. I am not—I am damaged and broken and—”

Harry held Severus’ face and brushed his tears away. “You’re perfect to me.”

Severus broke into helpless tears. “I have never been perfect or even passable to anyone, until you.”

“You are now. You’re beautiful and brave and intelligent and kind. Perhaps the persona you show to the world is cold, but I know what you are underneath. And I love you for it. You don’t have to impress me or anything either. You don’t have to earn it. I just love you because you’re you.”

“ _Harry_.” 

Severus buried his face in Harry’s shoulder and wept, broken, heartsick sobs that tore at Harry’s soul, but perhaps now, he would heal. Now that he had excised the poison from his soul—or at least a part of it—he could begin to recover. 

“It’s all right, Sev,” Harry murmured. “You’re safe. You’re loved. You’ll never be alone again.”

“I am sorry,” Severus gasped against him. “I am sorry I am so broken.”

Harry petted his ears and stroked his hair. “Ssh. If you’re broken, I’ll put you back together. It’s okay. Just let me hold you now. Just let your grief out. I’ll protect you until you can breathe again—and always.”

“I love you, Harry,” Severus whispered between breathless sobs. “So much.”

Harry cradled Severus close to his heart, whispering soft words of love to him until the yokai went slack in his arms and his breathing regulated. 

This once, Harry didn’t want to make him change into Xerxes. He wished he could hold Severus all night, but he was too young, and it was dangerous for Severus.

“Sev.” Harry kissed his forehead. “Wake up, Sev. You need to change, sweetheart. I’d just hold you, but Black and Lupin are mad enough already without that to drive them over the edge. I’m already scared they’re going to attack us, and it’s not wise to push it.”

“Black has already tried, beyond the poisoning, I mean. That curse—the one he attempted to cast at my back when you came home from the trial—it would have stripped me to my undergarments and forced me to seek company, rather than allowing me to retreat to safety. I suspect he wanted to force me to relive it, to reveal my scars and injuries to all and sundry.”

“ _Fuck_. What a twisted bastard!”

“Yes. I fear to leave you alone near such a man. Thank Merlin the Weasleys are always present.”

“After the way he’s been acting, I think it’s safe to say Mum will never leave me alone with the prats ever again. Or any of us. She doesn’t trust him at all, and with good reason.”

“Yes. It relieves me to know she is here to guard you.”

“Can she fight them off if need be, though? I mean, I know I can, but if they should take me off guard, can she defend me?”

Severus gave a wry laugh, choked with tears. “Harry, you saw her silencing charms, did you not? Madam Weasley is one of the fiercest duellers I have ever clashed wands with. She is, primarily, a mother, and when her children are in danger— _Merlin_. She even frightens me a little.”

“Really?” Harry beamed. “I never knew Mum was so strong.”

“She is a mother bear in every aspect of the word—every figurative aspect, at least. Black and Lupin will stand no chance against her should she ever become angry enough to duel them. Indeed, she may bring the entire house down upon our heads.”

Harry chuckled softly. “Is it awful of me to half hope they drive her to duelling one day just so I can watch her hand them their arses?”

Severus gave a dark laugh. “If so, we are awful together.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah.” He rubbed Severus’ cheek and brushed drying tears away. “Are you okay, Sev?”

“Okay is a stretch. But I am better.”

Harry kissed Severus’ forehead. “I’ll be with you through it all, Severus. Until you’re happy again and after.” He whispered in Severus’ ear, “Forever.”

Severus clutched Harry close and kissed his temple. “Yes,” he whispered back. “For now, though, we must sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow, too.”

“When are our days _not_ busy, Severus?”

Severus chuckled. “After the war. We shall take time to simply relax and enjoy life’s simple pleasures.”

“Like sake and soba noodles?”

Severus gave a soft laugh. “Yes, precisely. And sakura trees in the spring. Koi in the sun. Seeing it all with you at my side.”

Harry smiled and snuggled close. “Sounds lovely.” He moved back and petted Severus’ ears. “Oyasumi, Severus.”

“Oyasumi, Harry.”

Severus shifted into Xerxes and, under Harry’s soothing pets, soon fell asleep. Harry tried to follow him into dreams, but images of Severus’ torment haunted him long into the night.


	22. Across the Divide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of child abuse, rape, and suicide. Sev kills a bastard in cold blood who really has it coming. Both Sev and Moody also describe things that could be considered body horror if you're sensitive to that, but Sev doesn't actually _do_ them, and Moody is referencing the past. 
> 
> Gulliver gets his comeuppance! Next chapter is the reveal of Harry's race. Hope you're ready. 😉

#  **Chapter 22**

##  _Across the Divide_

### 3 JANUARY, 1997

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Harry’s midterm defence scores infuriated him. He knew the subject in and out, and he had even written his assignments in support of Gulliver’s pacifist hogwash so his grades wouldn’t suffer due to the ‘professor’s’ bias, but the bastard had still given him a troll grade for the semester regardless. 

As a result, McGonagall had called him into a meeting almost as soon as he returned to the school, and Harry fumed all the way to her office. She should _know_ he was better than this. She should believe in him. It wasn’t bloody _fair_.

Harry sighed and let his fury go as he approached her door. He, of anyone, should know by now that life wasn’t fair, and getting angry about it just made things worse. A smirk crossed his features. Unless, of course, he counted Lupin and Black. His fast and furious retaliation against those two had definitely made his life easier since the Christmas hols. And it had amused Severus to no end to see a fifth year student put the former defence instructor and an auror captain in their places with hardly any effort.

He stifled a dark chuckle and knocked on McGonagall’s door. “Ma’am, it’s Harry.”

“Come in, Potter.”

Harry entered to find McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Azrael had all gathered together in the Gryffindor head’s office, each wearing furious expressions. 

Azrael gave him a curious look as Harry walked in and sat beside him, unruffled as ever. “What has you looking so amused, Harry? I had thought you would be as outraged over these obviously biased results as we are.”

Harry snorted. “Oh, I am. But I was thinking of Lupin and Black and the fact that it must sting twice as hard to have their bums handed to them by a student.”

McGonagall’s lips twitched, but she responded in her usual stern manner. “Serve them right, for all they have done to harm you.”

Harry nodded and gave the headmaster a hesitant smile. The man looked exhausted. Exhausted and sorrowful. Whatever mission he had undertaken was not, judging by the look of him, going well. 

“Headmaster, it’s good to see you again. We’ve been worried.”

Albus gave him a wan smile. “I am glad to see you as well, dear boy. Would you like a lemon drop?”

Harry took one, more out of a desire to make the old man smile than for the sweet itself. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you’re here, but I’m a bit surprised to see you. I don’t mean that you don’t care or anything, but we all know you’re working on… important things. More important than my grades.”

“I beg to differ, Harry. Your future is immensely important, and our _lovely_ defence professor is threatening to destroy it, however amiable his manner.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Is he, though? I mean, my grades at Hogwarts don’t determine whether I pass the subject overall. The OWLs and NEWTs decide that, and Gulliver has no say over them.”

Azrael’s expression turned grave. “Unless Fudge—or his successor, should my efforts to unseat him come to fruition before the end of the year—appoints him as the OWL instructor. Or places a similarly-inclined idiot over your exams.”

“Or interferes with your marks,” said McGonagall, “as it is apparent Gulliver has done already.”

“And,” said Azrael, “if for no other reason than to keep your cover, it is essential that you continue in defence, even if you know more about the subject than most instructors we could find at this juncture.”

“Shame you couldn’t teach it, Azrael,” said Harry with a sigh. “You’d be such a good teacher.”

Albus’ eyes widened. “Azrael, _Merlin_. That might be a way to circumvent the curse. If you taught defense, it might—”

Azrael cut the man off before he could reveal too much in his exhaustion. “Albus, I cannot. That would put _others_ in quite the bind. I cannot be in two places at once.”

Albus sighed and slumped into his seat. “Yes, I see your meaning. Well, I shall continue to think on it. Perhaps Alastor will be recovered enough by the next term to accept the position.”

“Again,” said Harry with a wry smile. 

“Well, this time it would be the true Alastor at least,” said Albus with a chuckle. “We have learned from that experience, after all.”

“So have they,” said Azrael with a grim expression. “But I do agree that Alastor is a good choice once he is well enough to tolerate it. In the meantime, however, we must discuss Harry’s situation. It is clear from these copies of his work that he has tailored his answers to satisfy the professor regardless of the truth, which means Gulliver has chosen to fail him on purpose.”

“And that means Harry will not pass this year as long as that horrid man remains on staff,” said McGonagall, “and perhaps as long as Fudge remains in office. Azrael, are you any closer to bringing him down?”

Azrael nodded. “I was able to… _extract_ some information from Malfoy et al. Fudge has been taking bribes from him for years. However, he was, to our misfortune, intelligent enough to cover his paper trail—”

“Or Malfoy was,” Harry interjected.

“Yes, most likely, but either way, it will be difficult to prove when Malfoy is in such high standing at the Ministry and I can find no verifiable proof that an obscene amount of galleons has traded hands between them. Nor can I prove it was not for campaign donations or some other innocuous purpose without a Veritaserum trial of either Fudge or Malfoy, and I certainly do not have the influence to procure _that_.”

Harry rubbed his chin in thought. “What about the goblins? Would they work with you?”

“Again, I lack the influence to persuade them.”

Albus sighed. “I will attempt it—”

“No,” said Azrael gently. “You cannot. You are _too_ influential, Albus, and we need you here to keep Gulliver from taking over, no matter that he has done so in a more covert manner than Umbridge. If you ask the goblins for his records, they will know you are against the current Ministry and attempting to take them down. They will then have reason to remove you from the headmastership, and possibly worse. Treason is a highly punishable crime, after all, even when the Ministry deserves it.”

“What about me?” Harry unfolded his arms and faced them as an adult. “What if _I_ asked to verify Fudge’s records?”

“As much power and influence as you have within the Wizarding community, Harry,” said McGonagall, “your influence with the goblins is negligible. They do not care much for our wars, and so do not care that you are the Boy-Who-Lived or the Chosen One or any of that rubbish. They will see you as a fifth-year student and a minor with a prior record delving for information on the Minister of Magic. It will not go over well.”

“At best,” said Azrael, “they would simply deny your request and send you on your way. At worst, they would detain you and report you to the Ministry. And with the government we have in place now, that would be disastrous.”

Harry slumped into his seat with a sigh. “So our hands are tied with the goblins. We have no one with the right kind of influence.”

“Filius is half-goblin and may have better luck,” said Albus, “but he is also half-human, and if the goblins choose to recognise that side of his ancestry, we may soon find ourselves with a Ministry-appointed Charms instructor as well as Defence.”

“So that’s no good either then.” Harry rubbed his chin and thought hard. “Az, do you know if Narcissa is in on Lucius’ dealings or not? Does she approve?”

Azrael frowned. “Narcissa is Lucius’ wife. Of course she does.”

“Just because they’re married, it doesn’t mean they’re on the same page. Narcissa isn’t a Death Eater, after all. She might just be going along for the ride because she thinks she has no other choice.”

“But to expose Lucius would also expose her,” said Albus with a shake of his head. “She would suffer as a result, even if she completely hates Lucius, and I do not believe she does.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point.” Harry wrapped his arms around his chest again and racked his brains. “Bugger. I can’t—”

“Harry, _language_ ,” McGonagall chided.

Harry blushed. “Oops. Sorry, ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “Um, well, I was saying I can’t think of a way around it. I’ll keep trying though. There’s got to be _some_ way to make it work. In the meantime, what do we do about Gulliver? Is the fact that we know he’s botching my grades on purpose enough to get him sacked?”

“In Fudge’s Ministry?” Azrael shook his head. “We need stronger evidence. He’ll only say you earned those grades for going against the professor or some other such rot. And they could sway our support of you into bias as much as we could show his grading to be biased.”

Harry harrumphed. “So we need a smoking gun, in other words. Something to prove that he’s a dangerous berk. How do we get it?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” said McGonagall with a sigh. “We don’t know what he’s doing beyond ruining your grades. We can’t prove anything else at this point.”

“Do you reckon he botched anyone else’s marks?”

“Not that I noticed, though I will admit that fury over your own marks quite clouded my focus as to everyone else’s.” Her lips pursed. “Though I will say that performance in Defence is down as a whole. Whether that is due to the incompetency of its instructor or more sinister causes… well, we haven’t enough evidence to succeed against the Ministry in either case.”

“And to lose here could cost us dearly,” said Albus with a sigh. “The more influence we lose, the more we appear to be biased against the Ministry, the more we risk a Ministry takeover. Until we have a relatively honourable Minister in office, we are balanced on the edge of a sword. One wrong move, and we are finished.”

Harry ruffled his hair. “This is utterly ridiculous—there should be _laws_ against this kind of authoritarian rubbish—but I know you’re right. Gods.” He huffed and leaned on his knees. “So if we don’t have evidence on Fudge, Gulliver, or Malfoy, and we don’t have any way to find evidence in either case, what on earth are our options?”

“We only have two at the moment,” said Azrael. “We will, of course, continue to seek the evidence we need to remove the threats from power, but in the meantime, we must think of your education, safety, and future, Harry. From Gulliver’s obvious bias and the methods he is utilising to harm you, we believe Fudge’s goal is, ultimately, to drive you to anger and revenge. His plan is, to the best of our knowledge, to drive you to lash out against Gulliver and thus, have bounds to expel you and discredit you as a dangerous lunatic, and so on and so forth.”

“Right. Well, I’m not going to be that stupid, so what’s his backup plan?”

“To have you fail your OWLs, most likely. It won’t give him quite the influence against you that he wants, but he would still be able to pass you off as unintelligent or false, and perhaps to claim that the other instructors are coddling you.”

“But he can’t hope to get far with that plan,” said a bemused Harry. “They obviously aren’t coddling me. Professor Snape will boil him in flobberworm snot for the mere suggestion.”

McGonagall covered a snort with her hand. “Indeed he would, and I would pay to see it, but I believe Azrael has the right of it. Gulliver will settle for failing you if he cannot drive you to fury.”

“But what good is that going to do him? I mean, it would obviously be an inconvenience for me, but all I’d have to do is take the OWLs under an unbiased instructor, and it would show his plots as the rubbish they are.”

“Good luck finding one in this Ministry, Harry,” said McGonagall with a sad shake of her head. “Fudge would alter the test before you came in to make sure you never passed.”

“Well, could I prove I earned my scores? I mean, we all know I can fight and I know my defence, so all it would take is a single practical demonstration—preferably on Fudge—and any idiot would see that those grades are rubbish.”

“It would also inform the dark that you are more skilled than they believe,” said Azrael with a grimace.

“Merlin.” Harry raked his hand through his hair and huffed. “Okay. So what do I do, then?”

“I believe you will need to take both your Defence classes and your OWL under private tuition,” said Albus with a brilliant twinkle in his eye. “And I just happen to know the perfect instructor.”

“Azrael?”

“No. He doesn’t have the qualifications, and the Ministry would look too hard into his background if we used him. I was considering asking Alastor to train and test you. Alastor could, potentially, teach you skills neither Azrael nor myself are familiar with, and to train you might also help him to heal, hopefully enough to teach again come fall. Either way, it would be helpful for both of you and undermine Cornelius’ plans in one fell swoop.”

Harry frowned. “And my friends would be left alone with Gulliver in the meantime.”

“Well, Gulliver cannot abuse them without exposing himself,” said Azrael. “But there is also the possibility that removing you from his reach will anger him, or perhaps Fudge. And angry people do not think clearly.”

“So you’re telling me that hacking him off might make him trip up and show his hand.”

“Precisely.”

Harry considered his options and realised he had none. He only hoped Hermione and Ron would be all right in his absence. Unless, of course, Gulliver had discriminated against them, too.

“I’ll do it on one condition—ask Moody to teach any students Gulliver might be biased against. I highly doubt it’s just me, and if we can pick out patterns in the students he’s hurting, then it might give us some of that evidence we so badly need.” He frowned. “Professor,” he said to his head of house, “can you check on Ron and Hermione’s marks, too? And maybe all of the lions’ marks who went against Fudge last term? And ask Professor Flitwick about Luna’s?”

“Wait just a moment, Harry, and I will check now.” She put on her spectacles and peered at a piece of parchment on her desk. “Ah, let me see.” Her lips pursed and tightened every second. “How _interesting_. It seems Hermione Granger managed an A for this term in Defence, and Ronald Weasley, who has scored E’s in every term but this one, barely scraped by.” She met Harry’s eyes. “It seems Professor Moody will be teaching more than one student, if he agrees.”

“Fudge will try to block it. He’ll make private tuition illegal or something.”

“He can try,” said Azrael with a grim smile, “but the Wizengamot will never allow that. There are students in Hogwarts who are not physically capable of attending classes with their peers, such as in cases of mental or physical illness, and others have had little other choice but to withdraw from certain classes due to bullying or other mistreatment. There are many other students as well who cannot attend classes with the usual population….” 

Azrael impressed into Harry’s mind, _[Moon fae, vampires, and other night-bound races cannot attend classes during the daytime. There is a separate campus for them which has its own staff, though Professor Sinistra often teaches there as well.]_

Harry nodded his understanding. 

Albus went on, “The Wizengamot is sympathetic to the needs of such students, even if their complacency has blinded them to our plight, so I doubt even Cornelius will succeed in such an ill-advised endeavour.”

Harry gave Azrael a hesitant smile. “Do you think you could oversee our lessons with Professor Moody for a while, Azrael? I miss you during term for one thing, and until Professor Moody is better, he might need the help anyway.”

Azrael turned to Albus with a raised eyebrow.

“That is a splendid idea, Harry,” said the old man. “Azrael has enough experience to register as a teaching assistant and support for Alastor, so long as he is not in charge of grading.”  

“And it will hack off Gulliver and Fudge,” said a grinning Harry.

“Exactly,” Azrael agreed.

* * *

Harry still had to put up with Gulliver for a few days while Albus and Azrael talked to Moody and worked out the details. He wasn’t worried as they had a plan in the works, but he wondered how Gulliver would react when Harry came into his class without making a fuss. And, as he’d already talked to his dormmates and closest friends about the new class and advised them of the Ministry’s plans, they wouldn’t make a stink either. Harry, despite the rankling injustice, looked forward to the show as he walked into Defence their first Tuesday back, his expression as bored and unruffled as ever.

Gulliver watched him with a frown. “Good morning, class. Wands away.”

As no one had bothered to remove their wands, the reminder was simply given to annoy them and remind them of their ‘place.’ The students either rolled their eyes or glared. Harry just watched the idiot, occluding his secret amusement away.

Gulliver frowned harder. “I assume the lot of you have seen your midterm results?”        

The class responded in the affirmative, most answers either given in annoyed or bored tones, with a few angry replies mixed in here and there. Harry took note of those students and mentally added them to his secret class roster. Hmm. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Sally-Anne Perks. Both Muggleborn and both Hufflepuffs. Interesting.

Taking great care to mask his power and spells, Harry cast a wandless reflection spell upon the nearest window and keyed it to reveal itself only to him. It provided an excellent mirror to spy on his classmates with. The students he had mentioned looked furious. Others looked aggravated and confused. He didn’t see any other angry students for this class, but then, he hadn’t access to the fifth year snakes and eagles, nor the other classes. 

Harry cast a surreptitious charm linking a piece of blank parchment in his lap to the mirror. He would be able to use it to monitor the expressions of his other classmates, so long as he didn’t draw too much attention to himself. With any luck, by the end of the week, he might have a better idea of which students Gulliver had discriminated against and which to include in Moody’s classes. 

Gulliver’s frown deepened further. “You’ve _all_ seen the results?”

Harry barely resisted a smirk and answered with the chorus of students. Gulliver gave Harry a bemused glare, but when the other students all shot him dark looks, he must have supposed he would show his hand if he didn’t move on soon. 

“Well, that’s… good. For today, we’ll be reading about proper techniques to defuse a conflict. Turn to chapter sixteen of your books. Oh, not you, Mister Potter. I’m afraid this is a bit beyond your level, as your grades have clearly demonstrated. I brought this for you to read.” The man handed him a children’s book called ‘Playing Nice.’ 

Harry nodded and opened to the first page without acknowledging the obvious slight. Gulliver huffed and went back to his desk, his expression angry and calculating. Harry ignored it and wandlessly switched out the text and illustrations of the children’s book with his proper defence text—an auror-level treatise on the properties of advanced shield charms. A careful glamour made sure no one but Ron, Hermione, and himself could see it, and he set to work. 

The two scrolls’ worth of glamoured notes Harry took that day had Gulliver grinding his teeth when he walked out without ever once giving the professor so much as a backwards glance.

Ron and Hermione burst into giggles once they were a fair distance away from the class. 

“That was _brilliant_ , Harry,” Hermione said with a snort. “The man practically had smoke coming from his ears.”

Harry grinned. “I’ve got better news. You know how Az has been training me in… his specialty?” He leaned in and whispered, “I set a spying charm on the window near us. No one else can see it, but once we start working on our _secret_ , we’ll have a prime view of the temper tantrum Gulliver will no doubt launch. And I set a private eavesdropping charm, too.”

Hermione snickered. “You genius, you. I can’t _wait_ to watch.”

Ron grinned and nudged Harry’s shoulder. “Good on you, mate. Reckon you can use it to figure out who else he’s been taking the mickey out of, too?”

“That was the plan.”

“Brilliant.”

* * *

By the time Moody was ready to begin lessons, Harry had a full class roster for him—three, actually. One NEWT level, one OWL level, and one primer level. There weren’t enough to justify seven separate classes, but too many from too many forms to justify teaching them all at once. While bunching several years of classes into one wasn’t an _ideal_ situation, it would do until they could bring in a better instructor officially, or until Moody could cope with teaching full time. 

For the moment, however, Harry only gave Moody the list of the fourth and fifth years, by far the classes Gulliver had scorned the most. The other levels would be all right until Moody could handle more. That left him with a class of fourteen students, about the size of a typical double period at Hogwarts. Between Harry and Azrael, who both had experience with bad memories and PTSD, they hoped they could help keep the professor grounded and out of the past. They would certainly try, anyway.

The first lesson wouldn’t be too taxing on anyone anyway as the instructors both knew of Harry’s secret charms on Gulliver’s classroom and intended to use at least part of the period to watch the man implode.

Azrael came through the door to the Room a few moments after Harry and his classmates had arrived, leading a grim-faced Moody. Mad-Eye hesitated at the sight of the students, all watching him with wary expressions, then took a shaky breath and stepped inside. Azrael left a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I’m here to help, Alastor, however you need it.”

Moody nodded sharply. “Thank you, Professor Prince, but for the moment, we should focus.” 

Azrael bowed and moved back a pace. “As you wish.”

Moody turned to the students once more and visibly steeled himself. “Good morning, class. Get your bloody wands _out_. This isn’t going to be a useless reading session. You’ll be learning to defend yourself in this class, make no mistake, and even to fight back.”

Grins passed between the students, mostly either Harry’s closest friends and a smattering of others across the house spectrum, almost all Muggle or Squib born. Or obviously opposed to the Ministry. That gave them _something_ to work with, but wasn’t enough, unfortunately, to pin Gulliver with an accusation of blood fascism. Still, perhaps their viewing session would help.

“Thank Merlin for that, sir,” said Seamus. “Gods knows we all need it, given what rubbish we’ve had for instructors.”

“I don’t doubt that, laddie, but raise your hand if you need to speak from now on. I might not be an official instructor, but I plan on making this as close to an actual class as I’m able. 

“Yes, sir,” said the class at once.

“Good.” Moody straightened again and met them with his usual unnerving stare. “Now, I know the lot of you recognise me from your fourth year.” His eyelid twitched. “Or my face, at least. I know you’re all aware of the fact that the _professor_ who stole my appearance and guise was actually a Death Eater, but as he’s… permanently incapacitated from now on and Professor Snape has verified my identity—at length—you can rest assured I’m the _real_ Professor Moody.”

He paced a bit. “I’ll be up front with you. That monster kept me locked in a trunk for an entire year, tearing bits of hair and skin off of me whenever he needed a new round of polyjuice, and I’ve not… entirely recovered from it. There might be some things on the curriculum that I’ll need to pass to Professor Prince here.” He stopped pacing and met their eyes again. “But rest assured, you’ll have a proper education regardless, at least until the curse kicks in and the next idiot comes through.”

A burst of laughter followed that statement.

“Before we get started, though,” said Moody with a wicked grin, “Potter has a little… _treat_ set up for us to view. Potter, if you’ll come up and explain?”

Harry grinned and went to Azrael’s side. “I think those of you who aren’t in my confidence have been pretty confused about my behaviour the past week? I mean, we all saw what that berk did to my marks. We all know I don’t deserve it. We all know he expected me to throw a wobbly, but I didn’t, because I helped set this class up and knew we’d all be receiving proper defence instruction as soon as the headmaster and Professor Moody could get it sorted.”

He took out his scrying parchment, set it against the blackboard, and enlarged it to cover the entire surface. A mild sticking charm held it in place. 

“But since I didn’t know who else Gulliver might have been discriminating against among the other forms and houses, I set up a little scrying spell on one of the defence classroom windows to find out.” He gave his classmates a wicked smirk. “And as the Hogwarts defence class should be starting any moment now, we’re going to sit back and watch the show when Gulliver realises we’ve all left him in the lurch.”

Seamus whooped, and Harry turned on his parchment with a laugh. 

“ _Vigilo_.”

The defence classroom shimmered into view upon the enlarged parchment, revealing barely a handful of students. They looked between the empty chairs of their former classmates with bemused expressions—and jealousy—and took out their books. Some looked to the door as if they might walk out, too.

“If that lot leaves,” said Moody, “they’ll be joining us here next session.”

Harry nodded. “What do you think will happen if the entire class walks out, sir?”

“I reckon the Wizengamot might have to pay attention to that,” said Azrael with a smirk.

“Then let’s hope for a full classroom here tomorrow.”

Three of the remaining students in Gulliver’s class walked out. Harry wrote their names at the end of his roster—Ernie MacMillan, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott. Lavender and Parvati stood as if they would leave, too, but Gulliver walked in before they could, and the girls—the only two left behind—sat down again with mutinous expressions. Harry added them to his list, too.

Gulliver set his book down at his desk and, not paying attention to his mostly-deserted classroom, gave his usual greeting. “Good morning, students. Wands away. We will be—” He turned, and his words cut off in a strangled squawk of surprise. “Where… where are all the students?”

The girls shrugged and opened their books.

Gulliver’s eyes hardened. He marched straight to Parvati and slammed his hands down on either side of her book. “I asked you a question. Where are the others?”

“Merlin.” Azrael summoned his doe and began a warning for the headmaster.

Moody gave Azrael a narrow-eyed look. Azrael gave it right back. Harry, Ron, and Hermione pressed in around him and stared Moody down, too.

Moody looked between the lot of them and back to Azrael. "Nice patronus, Professor Prince. Only light-sided wizards can cast them, did you know that, class? Anyone with a dark heart can't manage the spell."

Harry relaxed, acknowledging the tacit acceptance for what it was. Thank Merlin.

Azrael gave him a look of deep gratitude. "Thank you, Professor Moody. We should focus on the confrontation now, however."

Moody nodded and watched the scene once more. Gulliver had leaned into Parvati and was snarling in her face.

"I said, Miss Patil,  _where are the others_?"

Parvati leaned back, obviously afraid. “I… I don’t know, sir.”

“Liar! You _live_ with them, most of them. Where have they gone?”

“But we really don’t know, sir,” Lavender protested. “We’re not that close to the others. And you’re scaring us.”

“I _demand_ to know where the others have gone this instant!”

“We’ve just told you we _don’t_ know.” Parvati scowled. “And I think I’ve had enough of this sham of a class, too.”

Lavender nodded and stood. Both girls packed their books away and turned to leave, but Gulliver aimed his wand at them. 

“Sit down, Brown, Patil. You will stay and listen to the Ministry-approved defence lecture, or you will be punished.”

Parvati’s eyes narrowed. “And just what are you going to do to us, sir? After all, haven’t you spent all term telling us if we’re good little girls and boys, we should never need to use our wands for defence?”

“Hypocrite,” Lavender spat. 

Gulliver’s eyes bugged. “Insolent little chits! I will show you how the Ministry deals with such impertinence!” He flicked his wand as if to curse them, but suddenly found himself petrified and bound. 

Albus’ voice came through the classroom. “That will be quite enough, Professor Gulliver. Or, as Hogwarts’ bylaws most definitely do not allow for the cursing of students, should I say, _ex_ -professor Gulliver.”

“Well,” said Harry with a wry smile at Moody, “this plan worked out better than I’d hoped.”

“Indeed,” Azrael agreed.

* * *

The aurors questioned Gulliver the next day and revealed him as an underground blood purist and dark supporter. Good news for Hogwarts, as with two of Fudge’s suggested instructors proving to harbour anti-Light tendencies, suspicion of the Minister rose to an all-time high. As a result, no one in the Wizengamot protested Albus’ request to instate Moody as the full-time defence professor, and Azrael had begun preparations for taking Fudge to trial. With any luck, they would have a _decent_ Minister in office soon. 

Moody, after spending awhile questioning Harry and Severus about his alter ego, accepted both Azrael and the defence position gracefully, but Harry sensed his nervousness and knew he wouldn’t remain on as an instructor after the year, curse or no. He hadn’t been ready for this, not so fast. 

Gods, Harry hoped it didn’t set back his recovery.

Albus had requested Tonks’ and Bill’s part-time aid as Moody’s assistants, and they split the man’s most stressful classes between them. With two of them handling the extra workload, they were able to remain on at their current jobs and thus didn’t risk their careers, and having professorial aids took much of the burden off Moody, too. 

 The actual Moody was a brilliant teacher and trainer. Harry and his friends learned more under him than anyone save Azrael and Albus. If not for the fact that Harry’s dreams refused to stop and Mad-Eye’s obvious discomfort, Harry would have considered the second term of his fifth year his best at Hogwarts yet.

At least, he would have done, until his dreams changed one night near the end of January.

 

> _“Llewelyn… Llewelyn….”_
> 
> _Harry had long-since learned that strange name was meant for him, and so he turned away from the door to the hall of Prophecy and Riddle’s single-minded focus on what lay within. The voice guided his feet to a room of revolving doors and strange lights. He turned at a second call and took a step forwards, towards a door that smelled of life and green and growing things. His fate lay beyond it, he was certain._
> 
> _“Llewelyn….”_
> 
> _Just as Harry reached for the handle, his consciousness jarred. Instead of the room of doors, he found himself slithering low to the ground and following the smell of human. Something fiery, something rich. Something he wanted to taste. To kill. The dream dragged him along after the sound of soft snores, and at the path’s end, Harry gasped at the sight of Arthur Weasley asleep on a stool outside the hall of Prophecy, invisibility cloak having slipped half-off his face._
> 
> _His host struck again and again, sharp fangs tearing soft flesh, and Harry’s cry of horror rang throughout the night._

 

“Oi!” Ron’s shout brought Harry out of the vision with a vengeance. “Mate, Merlin! That was the worst yet. Are you all—”

Harry bolted up and grabbed his wand. “N-no time.” With the desperation of terror, he forced his focus onto the happiest memory he could conjure—the moment he and Severus had agreed to their future, had finally admitted the growing pull between them and Severus had clung to Harry’s neck, overcome with love for him. “ _Expecto Patronum_!”

Thank Merlin, his crow Patronus—a change that had occurred partway through his fourth year—nuzzled his cheek and sat on his lap, awaiting instructions. “Go to Azrael. Wake him up. Dad—Arthur—was on guard in the hall of Prophecy, and Riddle’s snake just attacked him! _Go_!”

As the crow shot off into the night, Ron sank onto the bed beside Harry, face ashen, eyes wide. “D-Dad?”

“Yeah.” Harry grabbed Ron’s arm and heaved him up, but Ron slumped over onto his shoulder, stunned and weak with shock. “Come on, Ron. We’ve got to get to Dumbledore’s office.” He looked up to find his roommates watching them with worried expressions. “Nev, will you help me get him there? He’s heavy.”

Neville supported Ron on his other side and heaved him to his feet. “Come on, then.”

“Thanks, mate.” Harry turned to the other two. “Can one of you use your DA coins to let Hermione know what’s going on? She’ll gather up Ginny and the twins for us.”

“I’ll run after the twins myself,” said Seamus, already halfway to the door. “They’re just next door. Dean, you handle the girls.”

“Yeah, will do.” Dean fumbled in his drawer for his coin. “Got it. Go on, Harry.”

“Thanks, everyone,” said Harry with a sigh of relief. “Okay, come on, Ron. We’ve got to hurry.”

Harry half-dragged, half-carried Ron down the dormitory stairs, and by the time they reached the common room, Hermione, Parvati, and Ginny had just arrived, too. The twins came down just after, their usual jollity faded to ashen terror.

George called, “What’s the plan?”

“I don’t really have one,” said Harry. “We just have to get to the headmaster’s office. I sent him a patronus so he’ll know what’s going on.”

The twins nodded, and everyone piled out of the dorm. Ron recovered his wits partway through the portrait hole and took off running. 

“Dad! Merlin, don’t let him die. Please don’t let him die.”

Harry raced after him as fast as his legs would carry him.

* * *

After the attack, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys had all been sent to Grimmauld Place to await news on the Weasley patriarch. The lot of them holed themselves in the drawing room, huddled together on the sofas for comfort. Harry paced, wishing Azrael could be there to hold him together, but the yokai had gone to help Arthur. Harry would have liked to help, too, but as Azrael feared it was a trap to draw Harry into the Ministry, he had no choice but to stay behind with the rest of his peers and wait. 

Merlin, Harry hated waiting when his loved ones’ lives were on the line. 

“Mate,” came Ron’s wan voice, “thank you. I know… I know it’s hell on you, and I’m sorry, but I’m so glad you had a vision tonight anyway.”

Harry gave him a weak smile. “Y-yeah. It was horrible, though.”

“I can only imagine,” said Hermione with a shudder.

Harry shuddered, too. He could still _taste_ the blood.

He summoned a box of Tooth-Flossing Stringmints from somewhere and, finding them clear of tricks, popped several in his mouth. The minty, bubbly, tingling sensation washed away the lingering taste of metal and death, and Harry shivered from sheer relief.

“Harry,” Hermione said after a long moment, “I’m glad you were able to save Mister Weasley, too, but I’m a bit confused. How did you see it? You said the dream started the same as always, Voldemort dreaming of the hall of prophecy, but if Voldemort was dreaming, how on earth could he have been at the Ministry for you to see the attack on Arthur?”

Harry flopped down beside his friend with a shiver. “I… it wasn’t through Riddle’s eyes this time. I was seeing through his bloody _snake_.”

Hermione gasped. “Oh, gods. You mean…?”

“That I _lived_ it? That I—her fangs—the _blood_? Yeah. Gods, there was so much blood.” 

He summoned a bucket and hung his head over the rim. Not even Stringmints could wash the taste of that memory from his mouth. 

Hermione rubbed Harry’s back, tears rolling down her face. “Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“S’not your fault,” Harry choked out. “Just… I don’t understand it either.”

“Maybe Dumbledore will know,” said Ron with a shiver. “Merlin, Harry. You can’t have just _one_ normal week, can you?”

Harry gave a bitter laugh tinged with sobs and near hysteria. “Chance would be a fine thing.” He leaned over the bucket a bit longer, but his stomach had quieted. He pushed it back with his toe and tried to regain mastery of his emotions. “Gods, that vision—I thought those dreams of the prophecy hall were maddening, and still I half wish someone would just destroy the damn thing so I didn’t have to see it every bloody time I try to take a kip, but _this_? This is a level of horrible I can’t even… it’s… gods. I wish I could forget it.”

“So do I, mate,” said Ron, eyes dark with sorrow. “So do I.”

“Yeah.” 

Harry caught a flicker of movement by the doorway and found Black staring into the room. A sharp glare sent the bastard packing, and Harry might have laughed if he hadn’t been so miserable. 

“Merlin, what a terrible night.”

“Understatement, mate,” said Ron with a sniffle.

Hermione wrapped her arm around them both and tugged them close. Harry wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, each absorbed in their thoughts, until Azrael’s soft tenor broke the silence.

“Hello,” Azrael called from the hallway. “Where is everyone?”

Relief and dread coursed through Harry in equal measure. “Az! Thank Merlin. We’re in here.”

Azrael stepped into the room with a hesitant smile, so Harry reckoned the news couldn’t be awful. 

“How is he?” Ron raced to the man and grabbed his hands. “Dad, is he okay?”

Azrael gave the boy a tentative hug. “He is gravely injured, but he will pull through. Thank Merlin, Severus had begun developing antivenin for Nagini’s fangs the first moment he realised You-Know-Who had acquired a magical adder for a pet. Thanks to his forethought, Arthur will be well in a few days, assuming his recovery goes as expected.”

Ron dissolved into sobs of relief on Azrael’s shoulder, and the man held him, his eyes on Harry’s face. 

“Thank you,” Harry breathed, and covered tears of his own behind his hands.

* * *

Arthur recovered apace, and most of Harry’s remaining term went smoothly. It seemed Riddle was still lying low, unwilling to reveal himself to the public while he recruited followers under the Ministry’s nose and obsessed about the prophecy. At least Harry didn’t have to deal with gory visions every five minutes, but the dreams about the life door and his other name left him shaken and disconcerted regardless. 

They always ended at the same spot—the instant Harry touched his hand to the knob—but the aura of change crackled around him like a thunderstorm. Harry wanted it to hurry up and slow down at once. When he knew what he was, he needn’t go through life terrified he would discover his heritage by accident and ruin himself for life, but at the same time, the problems Luna had foreseen for him would begin soon after the influx of his magical heritage. And as Harry hadn’t the slightest what those problems might entail, the thought of his future left him torn. He wanted to grow up, but he also wanted to avoid pain and suffering, and it sounded as though he wouldn’t be able to once he matured. 

Damn. It just _couldn’t_ be easy for him, could it?

Well, with any luck, it wouldn’t hit right away. He was still only sixteen, after all. Surely whatever race he was didn’t mature _that_ much faster than humans.

With a sigh, Harry raced off to Severus’ office for his legilimency lesson. Severus sneered and snarled until the door closed behind him, then he wrapped Harry in a tight embrace. 

“Welcome, little one. Come.” Severus waved Harry into his quarters and guided him to the sofa. “We shall at least be comfortable this time, hmm? My knees are still a little bruised from the last session.” 

Harry flushed. “Sorry, Sev. I didn’t know I’d start seeing full memories so soon.”

“Nor did I, or I would have made myself more comfortable beforehand. Now, are you ready to begin, or do you need to speak to me first?”

“I don’t have anything important to talk about. It can wait until after like we always do.”

Severus ran his hand through Harry’s hair, then gave him a sad smile. “I wonder how you will change when your features come in. I have become quite accustomed to this appearance. I do hope your face, at least, will stay the same.”

“Let’s hope I get new hair,” said Harry with a laugh. “This mop is _hopeless_.”

Severus rubbed Harry’s curls once more. “I rather enjoy it.” He let his hand fall and slipped his fingers into Harry’s instead. “Go on. And do not coddle me this time. You are meant to be going after my traumatic memories now. Memories I do not want you to see. You will need to fight.”

Harry winced. “I know, but you’ve been so afraid for me to see them. Will you be okay?”

Severus’ hand trembled in Harry’s. “Will you stay with me? Even if you see… the worst of me, will you stay?”

Harry tipped Severus’ face down and kissed his forehead. “Always. And I’m never going to lose sight of these lovely ears, either, so don’t be afraid. It’ll be okay.”

Severus came up with a wry frown. “It is rather disconcerting that you no longer need to reach to kiss my forehead. You are so tall now.”

Harry chuckled nervously. “I-is that bad?”

“No, little one. Only a bit… well, unusual for me. I am, most often, the tallest person in any given group. But your height will surpass mine someday soon, I think. As will Ron’s.”

Harry snorted. “Poor Hermione. She’s going to be completely dwarfed between us.”

“And Hermione is tall for a young woman, too.” Severus chuckled and rubbed Harry’s palm. “Do not fear, little one. Whether you grow to be as tall as me or dwarf me by a head, you will still be….” He flushed and looked down. “Well, you understand.”

Harry squeezed Severus’ hand. “Someday, Sev. For now, are you ready?”

Severus nodded and took a deep breath. “I am.”

“ _Legilimens._ ”

Though Harry worried about how Severus would handle it, he obeyed the man’s orders and put more power behind the spell. Severus put up a barrier—so he didn’t plan to make this easy, at least—and Harry drew his magic together to a point. He pushed hard, pressing that point of magic into Severus’ barrier, and released the force when it shattered, leaving his mate’s mind wide open, but unharmed. Harry dove into the first red-marked memory he saw, a memory tinged with the blood of trauma, and prayed Severus would be all right when all was said and done.

 

> _Severus stood in a dank, dreary cellar somewhere, his breathing ragged, the metallic stench of old blood rank in his nostrils. He held his hands in white-knuckled fists, blood dripping between his fingers and falling between the cracks of ancient cobblestone floors. His wings quivered with tension, his ears lay flat against his skull, and his tail stretched up his back, an indication of intense anger and pain. Harry wanted to hold him, to kiss him and talk him down, but neither his body nor his voice had substance here._
> 
> _A quiet groan from across the room tore Harry’s focus from his troubled mate. A balding man in black robes hung from heavy manacles on the wall opposite. Bruises marred his face and hands and blood ran down his cheek from a cut on his temple. Severus’ eyes, as he stared at the beaten man, were haunted. Broken and hollow. Gods, was this what Severus had looked like when darkness and pain had sapped all the joy from his life? Harry wanted so much to bring the light of joy back to his beautiful face._
> 
> _Then, the prisoner shifted and lifted his head, and Harry focused on the memory once more._
> 
> _Severus stared at the man, his expression contorted into a snarl of pure rage and hatred. “Welcome back,_ Father _.”_
> 
> _The man against the wall was Tobias Snape? No, that couldn’t be. They looked nothing alike._
> 
> _The prisoner’s eyes widened. “_ You _! What are you doing—what—where_ am _I?”_
> 
> _Severus snarled, “Welcome to hell, Father, and to your reckoning for all your many sins.” He dropped his glamours, revealing his yokai features, and bared his sharp teeth. “I wonder, Father, how it would feel to inflict the pain upon you that you have given so liberally to Merlin knows how many innocents. I could do, you know. You are at my mercy.”_
> 
> _“You will burn, abomination!”_
> 
> _Severus’ eyes glowed red. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, I will be able to sleep tonight knowing the youth of Cokeworth is safe from your evil at last.”_
> 
> _The father must be the priest who had raped Severus’ childhood friend and the other boys of the church. Gods. No wonder Severus was so enraged._
> 
> _“You cannot hurt me! The power of Christ compels you! Begone, demon!”_
> 
> _Severus snorted. “Fool. I do so hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I am only_ part _demon. The wings would indicate a higher ancestry. And both sides are in allegiance against you tonight. To kill you is a mercy for the droves of lives you broke.”_
> 
> _“I… I have done no such thing.” But the man’s eyes darted from side to side as if searching for a way out, much like Pettigrew’s did when he lied._
> 
> _“Do you take me for a fool?” Severus’ smile left Harry’s blood chilled. “There is no talking your way out of punishment this time, Father. I am judge, jury, and executioner, and you have been found guilty.”_
> 
> _He paced, tapping a wicked-looking knife against his thigh. “I wonder, how should I do this? Should I bleed you, slowly, and let you watch your life drain out of you drop by drop? Or perhaps I could detach your fascia bit by bit and slowly peel your skin away. Or I could, perhaps, boil you alive in water that is_ just _hot enough to make it last.”_
> 
> _The priest whimpered. “Please, have mercy.”_
> 
> _“Mercy? Where was your mercy when you raped young boys and made them bleed? Where was your mercy when my one, dear friend killed himself because of the pain you caused him? Because you turned the entire town against us with your lies? Where was your mercy then?”_
> 
> _Severus stepped close and pressed the knife against the priest’s throat, drawing a bead of crimson at its tip. “I should stretch your death out as long as possible. I should give you back every second of pain you inflicted upon innocent boys.”_
> 
> _He dropped the knife and stepped back. “I should, but I am not like you.” He lifted his wand instead and snarled, “Avada Kedavra,” and screaming green light hit the priest dead centre. He slumped, expression forever frozen in terror, and Severus sank to his knees, tears pouring down his face._
> 
> _“It is… over. It is done. I have avenged him at last. But then, why do I feel so cold?”_

 

Severus’ shields slammed down and ejected Harry from the memory. Harry came to with a shake of his head and found Severus holding his head and weeping into his hands.

“Forgive me,” he whispered. “Please, forgive me.”

Harry whispered a healing charm against Severus’ aching head and tugged the shaking yokai into his arms. “Ssh. It’s all right. It’s over now, Sev.”

“Are you repulsed by me? By what I did?”

Harry sighed. “Sev… it’s hard for me to deal with death in the best of situations. For Merlin’s sake, I mourned Regulus and I didn’t even _know_ him. And I won’t deny that… it was difficult to watch.”

Severus shuddered and buried his face in Harry’s shoulder. “Please.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Harry stroked his hair and petted his ears. “You were lost back then, Severus, and you had no one— _no one_ —to help. You did everything you could to see him punished the legal way, but no one listened. No one cared. So you took his punishment into your own hands. And while it _was_ wrong, I don’t hate you or even blame you for it. You were merciful, in the end, and he deserved worse.”

Severus clung to Harry and wept. “I-it was my initiation. The first and only time I killed directly. It… it broke something inside me. Even with what justification I had, I did not leave that building a whole person.”

“Your initiation?” A chill of foreboding ran down Harry’s spine. “Sev, you dropped your glamours. Was anyone watching?”

“No. Well, they were, but I only keyed my glamours to reveal myself to the priest. And I used a personalised scrambling spell to alter my words when I mentioned my heritage and past. They would have heard me proclaim myself a powerful wizard lording it over a Muggle rather than what you heard, as none of my glamours work upon you.”

So Harry had only seen the truth of the memory because he was Severus’ mate. Thank Merlin.

Harry brushed Severus’ tears away and smoothed down his ears. “Still there, Sev.”

A fresh wave of tears dropped down the yokai’s face, but he smiled. “I… I am relieved to hear it.”

“Yeah. Was that the worst of you?”

Severus shuddered. “It is… difficult to say. I believe so, but I also made poisons. Perhaps I killed no one directly with those brews, but I know full well they did not remain on Riddle’s shelves for long. So I am still at fault for those deaths too, though I did not kill them myself.” More tears fell. “And I may still yet be forced to brew them again. Gods, I pray not, but I may not have a choice. If he orders it, I will be forced to either brew it or blow my cover.”

Harry rubbed Severus’ fingertips. “I’ll still forgive you, but, Sev, is it possible to brew a potion that only _looks_ like the poison he wants? I mean, one that makes it seem like the person is dead, but in reality, they’re just… frozen or something? Then Kingsley could come evacuate them somewhere, and it would look like the aurors just took their bodies to the morgue. Could you do something like that?”

Severus whipped his head up, eyes shining with hope and wide with shock. “I… Merlin, it might just be possible.” He pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Thank you, you lovely angel. With that in mind, I mightn’t need to sell my soul to this war, if I lose everything else.”

Harry cupped Severus’ face and held his gaze. “Not everything. Never everything.”

With a shaky breath, Severus turned into Harry’s hand and whispered against his palm, “No. Not everything.”


End file.
